BERTRAMS?  SMITH 
"ACRES  OF  I 

140.  PACIFIC   '-   ' 
LONG  ?,:-••  t.\  2 


The  Black  Wolf's  Breed 


'Come,  fellow,  thoti  art  trapped  ;  give  me  up  my  purse."    p.  76. 


The 
Black  Wolfs  Breed 


A  Story  of  France 

In  the  Old  World  and  the  New,  happening 
in  the  Reign  of  Louis  XIV 


By 
Ham's  Dickson 

Illustrations  by 
C.  M.  Belyea 


TWELFTH  THOUSAND 


Indianapolis 

The  Bowefl-Merrill  Company 
Publishers 


COPYRIGHT  1899 

BY 
THE  BOWBN-MBRRH.L  COMPANY 

All  rights  restrvtd 


T .tunworth.  Munn  &  Barber. 

Printers  an<l  Bookbinders, 

16  NMMU  Street.  Brooklyn.  N.  V. 


TO  THE  MEMORY  OF 

BIENVILLE 
THE  SOLDIER-GOVERNOR  OF  LOUISIANA 

OUT  OF  WHOSE 
MIGHTY  PROVINCE  HAS  GROWN  NEARLY  ONE-HALF 

OF  THE 

WORLD'S  GREATEST 
REPUBLIC 


2061721 


CONTENTS 


FOREWORD 

I 

The  Master 

II 

Bienville 

III 

Aboard  Le  Dauphin  1 8 

IV 
The  Road  to  Versailles  26 

V 
The  Decadence  of  Versailles  32 

VI 
Louis  XIV  47 

VII 

At  the  Austrian  Arms  57 

VIII 
A  New  Friend  7* 

IX 

Mademoiselle  85 


CONTENTS 

X 

In  the  House  of  Bertrand  101 

XI 
The  Dawn  and  the  Dusk  no 

XII 
Florine  to  the  Rescue  122 

XIII 
The  Girl  of  the  Wine  Shop  133 

XIV 
The  Secretary  and  the  Duke  146 

XV 
New  Hopes  163 

XVI 
The  Unexpected  173 

XVII 

The  Flight  From  Sceaux  180 

XVIII 
Serigny's  Departure  193 

XIX 
The  Castle  of  Cartillon  205 

XX 

From  the  Path  of  Duty  224 

XXI 

The  Fall  of  Pensacola  233 


CONTENTS 

XXII 

The  Contents  of  the  Box  241 

XXIII 
A  Note  Which  Went  Astray  251 

XXIV 
The  Children  of  the  Black  Wolf's  Breed  266 

APPENDIX  275 


T? RANGE — In  the  old  world  and  in  the  new! 
•*•  The  France  -of  romance  and  glory  under  Henry 
of  Navarre;  of  pride  and  glitter  under  Louis  XIV,  in 
whose  reign  was  builded,  under  the  silver  lilies,  that  em- 
pire— Louisiana — in  the  vagtie,  dim  valley  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi across  the  sea:  these  are  the  scenes  wherein  this 
drama  shall  be  played.  Through  these  times  shall  run 
the  tale  which  follows.  Times  when  a  man' s  good  sword 
was  ever  his  truest  friend,  when  he  who  fought  best  com- 
manded most  respect.  It  was  the  era  of  lusty  men 

the  weak  went  to  the  wall. 

King  and  courtier ;  soldier  and  diplomat ;  lass  and 
lady ;  these  are  the  people  with  whom  this  story  deals. 
If,  therefore,  you  find  brave  fighting  and  swords  hang- 
ing too  loosely  in  their  sheaths ;  if  honor  clings  round  an 
empty  shadow  and  the  women  seem  more  fair  than  hon- 
est, I  pray  yo^^.  remember  when  these  things  did  happen, 
who  were  the  actors,  and  the  stage  whereon  they  played. 

THE  AUTHOR. 


THE  BLACK  WOLFS  BREED 


FOREWORD 

T  T  is  fitting  that  old  men,  even  those  whose  trade  is 

war,  should  end  their  days  in  peace,  yet  it  galls  me 

grievously  to  sit  idly  here  by  the  fire,  in   this  year  of 

grace  174.6,  while  great  things  go  on  in  the  world  about 

me. 

The  feeble  hound  at  my  feet,  stretching  his  crippled 
limbs  to  the  blaze,  dreams  of  the  chase,  and  bays  de- 
lighted in  his  sleep.  Nor  can  I  do  more  than  dream 
and  meditate  and  brood. 

News  of  Fontenoy  and  the  glory  of  Prince  Maurice 
thrills  my  sluggish  blood;  again  I  taste  the  wild  joys  of 
conflict ;  the  clashing  steel,  the  battle  shouts,  the  cries 
of  dying  men — yea,  even  the  death  scream  of  those 
sorely  stricken  comes  as  a  balm  to  soothe  my  droning 
age.  But  the  youthful  vigor  is  gone.  This  arm  could 
scarcely  wield  a  bodkin ;  the  old  friend  of  many  cam- 
paigns rusts  in  its  scabbard,  and  God  knows  France  had 
never  more  urgent  need  of  keen  and  honest  swords. 
(0 


2  THE   BLACK   WOLF  S   BREED 

Thus  run  my  thoughts  while  f  sit  here  like  some  de- 
crepit priest,  bending  over  my  task,  for  though  but  an  in- 
different clerk  I  desire  to  leave  this  narrative  for  my  chil- 
dren1's  children. 

My  early  life  was  spent,  as  my  children  already 
know,  for  the  most  part  in  the  American  Colonies.  Of 
my  father  I  knew  little,  he  being  stationed  at  such  re- 
mote frontier  posts  in  the  savage  country  that  he  would 
not  allow  my  mother  and  myself  to  accompany  him.  So 
we  led  a  secluded  life  in  the  garrison  at  Quebec.  After 
the  news  came  of  his  death  somewhere  out  in  the  wilder- 
ness, my  brave  mother  and  I  were  left  entirely  alone.  I 
was  far  too  young  then  to  realize  my  loss,  and  the  mem- 
ory of  those  Peaceful  years  in  America  with  my  patient, 
accomplished  mother  remains  to  me  now  the  very  happiest 
of  my  life. 

From  her  I  learned  to  note  and  love  the  beauties  of 
mountain  and  of  stream.  The  broad  blue  St.  Lawrence 
and  the  mighty  forests  on  its  banks  were  a  constant 
source  of  delight  to  my  childish  fancy,  and  those  mem- 
ories cling  to  me,  ineffaceable  even  by  all  these  years  of 
war  and  tumult. 

When  she  died  I  drifted  to  our  newer  stations  in  the 
south,  down  the  great  river,  and  it  is  of  that  last  year 
in  Louisiana,  while  I  was  yet  Captain  de  Mouret  of 
Bienville1  s  Guards,  that  I  would  have  my  children  know. 

Along  the  shore  of  Back  Bay,  on  the  southern  coast 
of  our  Province  of  Louisiana,  the  dense  marsh  grass 
grows  far  out  into  the  water,  trembling  and  throbbing 
with  the  ebb  and  flow  of  every  tide. 


THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

Thicker  than  men  at  arms,  it  stands  awhile  erect 
where  the  shallow  sea  waves  foam  and  fret;  then  climb- 
ing  higher  ground,  it  straggles  away,  thinner  and  thin- 
ner, in  oaken- shaded  solitudes  long  innocent  of  sun. 

Beginning  on  the  slopes,  a  vast  mysterious  forest, 
without  village,  path,  or  white  inhabitant,  stretches  in- 
land far  and  away  beyond  the  utmost  ken  of  man .  There 
the  towering  pines  range  themselves  in  ever-receding  col- 
onnades upon  a  carpet  smooth  and  soft  as  ever  hushed 
the  tread  of  Sultan 's  foot.  Dripping  from  their  topmost 
boughs  the  sunlight  s  splendor  flickers  on  the  floor,  as  if 
it  stole  through  chancel  window  of  some  cool  cathedral 
where  Nature  in  proud  humility  worshiped  at  the  foot  of 
Nature' s  God. 

It  was  in  those  wilds,  somewhere,  the  fabled  El 
Dorado  lay  ;  there  bubbled  the  fountain  of  eternal  youth  ; 
through  that  endless  wilderness  of  forest,  plain  and  hill 
flowed  on  in  turbid  majesty  the  waters  of  De  Soto1  s 
mighty  grave. 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    MASTER 

TT  was  late  one  clear  moonlight  night  in  the  spring  of 
Ai/ — ,  when  three  silent  figures  emerged  from  the 
woodland  darkness  and  struck  across  the  wide  extent  of 
rank  grass  which  yet  separated  us  from  the  bay.  Tuska- 
homa  led  the  way,  a  tall  grim  Choctaw  chieftain,  my 
companion  on  many  a  hunt,  his  streaming  plumes  flutter- 
ing behind  him  as  he  strode.  I  followed,  and  after  me, 
Le  Corbeau  Rouge,  a  runner  of  the  Choctaws.  We 
were  returning  to  Biloxi  from  a  reconnaissance  in  the 
Chickasaw  country. 

Each  straight  behind  the  other,  dumb  and  soundless 
shadows,  we  passed  along  the  way,  hardly  bruising  a 
leaf  or  brushing  the  rustling  reeds  aside. 

"See,  there  is  the  light,"  grunted  Tuskahoma,  point- 
ing to  a  glimmer  through  the  trees.  "Yes,  the  White 
Prophet  never  sleeps,"  assented  Le  Corbeau  Rouge. 

The  light  which  marked  our  almost  ended  journey 
came  from  a  window  in  one  of  those  low,  square  log 
houses,  fortress-dwellings,  so  common  in  the  provinces. 

Here,  however,  the  strong  pine  palisades  were  broken 
down  in  many  places ;  the  iron-studded  gate  hung  un- 
(5) 


6  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

hinged  and  open,  the  accumulated  sand  at  its  base 
showed  it  had  not  been  closed  in  many  years. 

But  the  decay  and  neglect  everywhere  manifest  in  its 
defenses  extended  no  further,  for  inside  the  enclosure 
was  a  garden  carefully  tended ;  a  trailing  vine  clung  lov- 
ingly to  a  corner  of  the  wide  gallery,  and  even  a  few  of 
the  bright  roses  of  France  lent  their  sweetness  to  a  place 
it  seemed  impossible  to  associate  with  a  thought  of  bar- 
baric warfare. 

I  loved  this  humble  home,  for  in  such  a  one  my 
mother  and  I  had  spent  those  last  years  of  sweet  good- 
comradeship  before  her  death — the  roses,  the  rude 
house,  all  reminded  me  of  her,  of  peace,  of  gentler 
things. 

The  character  of  its  lone  occupant  protected  this 
lowly  abode  far  better  than  the  armies  of  France,  the 
chivalry  of  Spain,  or  the  Choctaw's  ceaseless  vigilance 
could  possibly  have  done.  He  came  there  it  was  said, 
some  fifteen  years  before,  a  Huguenot  exile,  seemingly 
a  man  of  education  and  birth.  He  built  his  castle  of 
refuge  on  a  knoll  overlooking  the  sheltered  bay,  hoping 
there  to  find  the  toleration  denied  him  in  his  native 
land.  The  edict  of  Nantes  had  been  revoked  by  King 
Louis,  and  thousands  of  exiled  Frenchmen  of  high  and 
low  degree  sought  new  fortunes  in  newer  lands. 

Many  had  reached  America,  and  strove  with  ener- 
getic swords  and  rapacious  wallets  to  wrest  blood  and 
gold  and  fame  from  whatsoever  source  they  might. 

This  man  alone  of  all  those  first  explorers  had  shown 
no  disposition  to  search  out  the  hidden  treasures  of  the 


THE   MASTER  7 

wilderness,  to  prey  upon  the  natives.  He  became  their 
friend  and  not  their  plunderer. 

His  quiet  life,  his  kindness,  his  charity,  his  knowledge 
of  the  simple  arts  of  healing,  so  endeared  him  to  every 
warring  faction  that  at  his  house  the  Choctaw  and  the 
Chickasaw,  the  Frenchman,  Spaniard  and  the  English- 
man met  alike  in  peace.  So  the  needless  fortifications 
fell  into  unrepaired  decay. 

Many  an  afternoon  I  had  paddled  across  the  bay  and 
spent  a  quiet  hour  with  him,  as  far  from  the  jars  and 
discord  at  Biloxi  as  if  we  were  in  some  other  world. 

As,  this  night,  we  drew  nearer  the  house  we  saw  no 
signs  of  life  save  the  chinks  of  light  creeping  beneath 
the  door.  I  rapped,  and  his  voice  bade  me  enter. 

The  master  sat  at  his  table  in  the  center  of  a  great 
room,  about  which  were  a  number  of  surgical  and 
scientific  instruments,  all  objects  of  mistrust  to  my  In- 
dian friends. 

These  curious  weapons  of  destruction  or  of  witchcraft, 
for  so  the  Indians  regarded  them,  contributed  to  make 
him  an  object  of  fear,  which  doubtless  did  much  to 
strengthen  his  influence  among  the  tribes. 

He  was  at  this  time  somewhat  more  than  sixty,  slender 
and  rather  above  the  medium  height.  With  his  usual  grave 
courtesy  he  welcomed  us  and  readily  loaned  the  small 
pirogue  necessary  to  carry  our  party  across  the  bay. 

The  Indians  were  restless  and  the  governor  waited,  so 
I  only  thanked  our  host  and  turned  to  go. 

He  rose,  and  laying  his  hand  upon  my  arm  detained 
me.  "Wait,  Placide;  I  am  glad  you  returned  this 


8  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

way,  for  I  have  long  wished  to  speak  with  you ;  espe- 
cially do  I  wish  it  on  this  night — on  this  night.  Sit 
down." 

Mechanically  I  obeyed,  for  I  could  see  there  was 
something  of  more  than  usual  import  on  his  mind.  The 
Indians  had  withdrawn,  and  the  master,  pacing  uncer- 
tainly about  the  room,  paused  and  regarded  me  in- 
tently, as  if  he  almost  regretted  his  invitation  to  stay. 
After  several  efforts  he  abruptly  began : 

"I  fear  I  have  not  very  long  to  live,  and  dread  to 
meet  death,  leaving  a  solemn  duty  unperformed.  It  is 
of  this  I  would  speak." 

I  listened  in  silence.  He  spoke  hurriedly  as  though 
he  doubted  his  resolution  to  tell  it  all. 

"You,  and  every  one  in  these  colonies,  know  me  only  as 
Colonel  d'Ortez,  the  Huguenot  refugee.  So  I  have  been 
known  by  the  whites  ever  since  I  came  here  to  escape 
persecution  at  home,  and  to  get  forever  beyond  the 
sound  of  a  name  which  has  become  hateful  to  me — my 
own. 

"The  Counts  d'Artin  have  been  a  proud  race  in 
France  for  centuries,  yet  I,  the  last  d'Artin,  find  the 
name  too  great  a  burden  to  bear  with  me  in  shameful 
silence  to  my  grave.  See  this,"  and  he  took  from  his 
throat  a  pearl-studded  locket,  swung  by  a  substantial 
golden  chain,  which  he  opened  and  handed  to  me.  In- 
side were  the  arms  of  a  noble  family  exquisitely  blaz- 
oned upon  a  silver  shield. 

"What  is  it;    what  device  is  there?" 

I  knew  something  of  heraldry  and  read  aloud  without 


^    ^ 

"  What  is  it ;  what  device  is  there?"    p.  8. 


THE   MASTER  9 

hesitation  the  bearings  upon  the  shield,  prominent  among 
which  were  three  wolves'  heads,  chevroned,  supported 
by  two  black  wolves,  rampant,  the  coronet  and  motto 
"Praeclare  factum." 

"Aye,"  he  mused  half  coherently,  "the wolf;  'tis  the 
crest  of  the  d'Artins,  quartered  with  those  of  many  of 
the  most  ancient  houses  of  France.  So  do  those  arms 
appear  to  men.  But  see." 

He  took  the  locket  quickly  from  me  and  with  a  swift 
forceful  movement  turned  the  plate  in  its  place,  exposing 
the  reverse  side. 

'  'What  is  this  ?    Look ! ' ' 

I  glanced  at  it  and  started,  looking  inquiringly  into 
my  old  friend's  face.  He  avoided  my  eye. 

I  saw  now  upon  the  plate  the  same  arms,  the  same 
quarterings,  but  over  all  there  ran  diagonally  across 
the  scutcheon*  a  flaming  bar  of  red  which  blazed  evilly 
upon  the  silver  ground.  I  understood. 

"What  is  it?"  he  demanded  impatiently.  I  still  could 
find  no  word  to  answer. 

"Speak  out  boy,  what  is  it?" 

'  'The  same,  but  here,  over  all,  is  the  bendlet  sinister. ' ' 
I  scarcely  dared  to  look  up  into  his  face. 

"Aye,"  he  replied,  his  countenance  livid  with 
shame.  "It  is  the  bar  sinister,  the  badge  of  dishonor. 
So  do  those  proud  arms  appear  in  the  sight  of  God, 
and  so  shall  they  be  seen  of  men.  And  for  genera- 
tions each  Lord  of  Cartillon  has  added  to  that  crimson 
stripe  the  indelible  stain  of  cowardice." 

The    master,  his  features  working  convulsively  with 


10  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

humbled  pride,  his  eyes  never  leaving  the  floor,  con- 
tinued resolutely. 

"The  story  is  short.  Over  a  hundred  years  ago  the 
Count  d'Artin  was  murdered  in  his  castle  by  the  son  of 
a  peasant  woman,  his  half  brother,  who  assumed  the 
title  and  seized  the  estates.  This  was  easy  in  those 
times,  for  the  murdered  man  was  a  Huguenot,  his  slayer 
a  Catholic  in  the  service  of  Guise,  and  it  was  the  day 
after  St.  Bartholomew's.  The  count  had  sent  his  infant 
son  for  safety  to  an  old  friend,  the  abbott  of  a  neigh- 
boring monastery.  This  child  was  brought  up  in  the 
Catholic  faith,  and  in  him  and  his  descendants  resided 
the  true  right  of  the  Counts  d'Artin.  Of  this  they  have 
always  been  ignorant.  The  usurper  on  his  death  bed 
repented,  and  calling  his  own  son  to  him,  told  him  the 
whole  story,  exacting  a  solemn  oath  that  he  would  find 
the  disinherited  one  and  restore  to  him  his  own.  This 
oath  was  kept  in  part.  His  son,  Raoul  d'Ortez,  found 
the  child,  then  an  officer  in  the  army,  but  lacked  the 
courage  to  declare  his  own  shame,  and  relinquish  the 
price  of  his  father's  crime.  By  that  Raoul  d'Ortez 
this  locket  was  made,  and  the  same  vow  and  the  same 
tradition  were  handed  down  to  me.  I  have  no  child. 
God  knows  I  would  give  up  the  accursed  heritage  if  I 
could. 

"During  all  these  years  a  careful  record  has  been  kept 
of  the  true  lineage,  which  was  only  broken  in  my 
father's  time.  Here  in  this  packet  are  the  papers  which 
prove  it;  I  confide  them  to  you  upon  my  death.  After 
I  am  gone  I  want  you  to  find  the  last  d'Artin." 


THE   MASTER  H 

He  was  silent  now  a  long  time,  then  continued  in  a 
lower  tone :  ' '  My  mother  was  of  the  reformed  religion 
and  I  embraced  her  faith.  It  seems  like  a  judgment  of 
God  that  I,  a  Huguenot,  should  lose  under  King  Louis 
what  my  Catholic  ancestor  gained  under  King  Charles. 
Now  go,  lad." 

I  could  say  nothing,  but  touching  his  hand  in  mute 
sympathy  turned  away  without  a  word. 

I  had  almost  reached  the  door  when  he  sprang  after 
and  again  detained  me.  His  glance  searched  appre- 
hensively into  the  shadowy  corners  of  the  room,  his 
voice  wavered,  the  look  of  a  hunted  animal  crept  into 
his  eyes. 

" 'Tis  said,"  he  whispered,  "the  restless  spirits  of 
my  fathers  yet  haunt  our  castle  in  Normandy — oh,  mer- 
ciful God,  do  you  believe  it?  Oh  no,  no,  after  all  these 
troubled  years  I  fain  would  find  a  dreamless  slumber  in 
my  grave." 

I  soothed  him  as  I  would  a  frightened  child,  and  left 
him  standing  at  the  door. 


CHAPTER  II 

BIENVILLE 

JVA  USING  on  this   strange  story,  and  the  old  man's 

unwonted  fear,  I  walked  on  down  to  the  water's 

edge  where  my  Indian  friends,  already  in  the  pirogue, 

awaited  me.     Another  half  hour  and  we  were  in  Biloxi. 

When  we  reached  the  barracks  I  found  orders  to  at- 
tend the  governor  at  once. 

Bienville  stood  before  his  fire  alone,  quiet,  but  in  a 
very  different  mood  from  any  in  which  I  had  theretofore 
seen  him. 

"Captain  de  Mouret,"  the  rough  old  warrior  began, 
without  any  prelude  or  indirection,  "I  desire  to  send 
you  at  once  to  Paris  on  an  errand  of  the  utmost  impor- 
tance to  myself  and  to  this  colony.  I  select  you  for  this 
task,  though  I  can  ill  spare  you  here,  because  it  is  a 
delicate  matter.  I  believe  you  to  be  honest,  I  know 
you  are  courageous." 

I  bowed,  and  he  went  on.  Something  had  evidently 
occurred  to  vex  and  irritate  him. 

"You  know  the  people  who  surround  me  here,  the 
weak,  the  vicious,  the  licentious  of  all  the  earth.  A 
band  of  unprincipled  adventurers,  vile  Canadians  and 
half-breeds,  all  too  lazy  to  work,  or  evfen  to  feed  them- 

(12) 


BIENVILLE  1 3 

selves  out  of  the  bountiful  earth  which  would  give  every- 
thing we  need  almost  for  the  asking.  The  air  is  full  now 
of  rumors  of  a  Spanish  war,  and  a  Natchez-Chickasaw 
alliance.  If  these  things  are  true  we  would  find  our- 
selves entirely  cut  off  from  French  supplies,  and  this 
colony  would  literally  starve  to  death.  Yes,  starve  to 
death  with  untold  millions  of  fruitful  acres  all  about  us. 
Had  we  strength  to  fight  I  would  not  care  so  much. 
With  but  two  companies  of  undisciplined  troops,  a  mere 
straggling  handful,  officered  by  drunkards,  we  could  not 
defend  this  post  a  day  against  any  organized  attack." 

All  this  I  knew  to  be  true,  so  I  made  no  comment. 
He  pursued  the  conversation  and  evidently  relieved  his 
mind  of  much  that  had  troubled  him  for  months. 

"Then  this  beggarly  commissary  of  mine,  and  the 
trafficking  priest,  de  la  Vente,  they  are  constantly  stir- 
ring up  strife  against  me  here,  and  putting  lies  in  the 
hands  of  my  enemies  at  court.  The  king,  too,  is  wearied 
out  with  this  endless  drain  upon  his  treasury  for  money 
and  supplies,  and  is  now,  so  I  am  informed,  almost 
ready  to  accede  to  Crozat's  proposition,  and  turn  over 
to  him  the  revenues  and  government  of  the  colonies." 

The  old  man  grew  earnest  and  eloquent. 

'  'What !  turn  over  an  empire  such  as  this  to  a  miser- 
able trading  huckster,  the  son  of  a  peasant — permit  him 
to  name  the  governors  and  officers !  Why,  under  his 
rule,  such  cattle  as  la  Salle  and  de  la  Vente  would  feed 
fat  upon  the  miseries  of  the  people !  Great  God, 
Placide,  do  you  appreciate  what  that  means?  To 
create  this  peddler  of  silks  and  laces  lord  of  a  bound- 


14  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

less  domain,  more  magnificent  than  Louis  in  his  wildest 
schemes  of  conquest  ever  dreamed?  Why,  boy,  the  day 
will  come  when  for  a  thousand  leagues  the  silver  lilies 
will  signal  each  other  from  every  hill  top ;  marts  of  com- 
merce will  thrive  and  flourish;  the  land  will  smile  with 
farms  and  cities,  with  proud  palaces  and  with  granite 
castles.  The  white  sails  of  our  boats  will  fleck  every  lake 
and  sea  and  river  with  their  rich  burdens  of  trade,  pour- 
ing a  fabulous  and  a  willing  wealth  into  the  coffers  of 
the  king.  Gold  and  silver  mines  will  yield  their  pre- 
cious stores,  while  from  these  niggard  natives  we  will 
wrest  with  mighty  arm  the  tribute  they  so  contemptu- 
ously deny  the  weakling  curs  who  snap  and  snarl  at  my 
heels.  Grey  tower  and  fortress  will  guard  every  inlet,  and 
watch  this  sheltered  coast.  In  every  vale  the  low  chant 
of  holy  nuns  will  breathe  their  benediction  upon  a 
happy  people.  And  hordes  of  nations  yet  unknown 
and  races  yet  unborn,  in  future  legends,  in  song,  in  story 
and  in  rhyme,  will  laud  the  name  of  Bourbon  and  the 
glory  of  the  French.  Oh  lad!  lad!  'tis  an  ambition 
worthy  a  god." 

The  governor  had  risen,  and  waving  his  long  arms 
this  way  and  that,  pointed  out  the  confines  of  his  mighty 
dreamland  empire  with  as  much  assurance  as  if  cities 
and  towns  would  spring  up  at  his  bidding 

His  whole  frame  spoke  the  most  intense  emotion. 
The  face,  glorified  and  transfigured  by  the  allurement  of 
his  brilliant  mirage,  seemed  that  of  another  man. 

"Ah,  Placide!  Placide!  it  stings  me  that  this  chiv- 
alrous king  of  ours,  this  degenerate  grandson  of  Henry 


BIENVILLE  1 5 

the  Great,  should  think  of  selling  for  a  few  paltry  livres 
such  an  heritage  as  this.  Shame  to  you  Louis,  shame!" 

His  tone  had  grown  so  loud,  so  peremptory,  I  inter- 
rupted. 

"Caution,  sire;  who  knows  what  tattler's  ears  are 
listening,  or  where  your  thoughtless  words  may  be  re- 
peated." 

He  stood  moodily  with  hands  behind  him  gazing  into 
the  fire.  For  years  I  had  known  Bienville  the  soldier, 
the  stern  and  unyielding  governor,  with  the  hand  of  iron 
and  the  tongue  of  suasion. 

Now  I  saw  for  the  first  time  Bienville  the  man,  Bien- 
yille  the  visionary,  Bienville  the  enthusiast,  the  dreamer 
of  dreams  and  the  builder  of  castles.  I  watched  him  in 
amazement. 

"Then  these  miserable  women  whom  our  good  father, 
the  Bishop  of  Quebec,  was  so  kind  as  to  send  us,  bring- 
ing from  their  House  of  Correction  all  the  airs  and 
graces  of  a  court.  Bringing  hither  their  silly  romances  of 
a  land  of  plenty;  they  vow  they  came  not  here  to  work, 
and  by  the  grace  of  God,  work  they  will  not.  They 
declare  they  are  not  horses  to  eat  of  the  corn  of  the 
fields,  and  clamor  for  their  dear  Parisian  dainties. 
Against  such  a  petticoat  insurrection  the  governor  is 
helpless.  Bah  !  it  sickens  me.  I  wonder  not  that  our 
men  prefer  the  Indian  maidens,  for  they  at  least  have 
common  sense.  But  by  my  soul,  Captain,  here  I  stand 
and  rant  like  some  schoolboy  mouthing  his  speech. 
Tush,  it  is  forgotten. 


1 6  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Tell  me,  Captain  de  Mouret,  what  have  you  learned 
of  the  Chickasaws,  for  our  time  grows  short.' 

Glad  to  change  the  current  of  his  thought  I  went  on 
in  detail  to  give  the  results  of  my  reconnaissance. 
Everywhere  we  found  preparations  among  the  allied 
tribes,  and  felt  sure  we  saw  signs  of  a  secret  under- 
standing between  them  and  the  Spaniard. 

The  governor  made  many  notes,  and  carefully  exam- 
ined the  charts  I  had  drawn  of  the  Chickasaw  towns, 
systematically  marking  down  the  strength  and  fortifica- 
tions of  each.  When  I  had  finished  my  report  we  sat 
for  quite  a  while,  he  silent  and  thoughtful,  watching  the 
thin  blue  smoke  eddy  round  and  round  then  dart  up  the 
capacious  chimney. 

"And  they  charge  me  at  the  court  of  France,"  he 
soliloquized,  giving  half  unconscious  expression  to  the 
matter  uppermost  in  his  mind,  "they  charge  me  at  the 
court  of  France,  what  no  man  save  my  king  dare  say 
to  me — that  I  divert  the  public  funds  to  my  own  use.  I, 
a  Le  Moyne,  who  spend  my  own  private  fortune  in 
protecting  and  feeding  these  ungrateful  people.  But 
we  waste  time  in  words,  like  two  chattering  old  women. 
We  need  ships  and  money  and  men — men  who  fight 
like  gentlemen  for  glory,  not  deserters  and  convicts  who 
fight  unwillingly  under  the  lash  for  gold. 

"What  can  I  do  with  troops  who  would  as  gladly 
spoil  Biloxi  as  Havana? 

"Captain  de  Mouret,  you  will  sail  on  le  Dauphin  to- 
morrow at  daylight.  Place  these  dispatches  in  my 
brother  Serigny's  hands  immediately  upon  your  arrival. 


BIENVILLE  I/ 

From  that  time  forward  act  under  his  instructions.  Re- 
member, sir,  your  mission  is  a  secret  one." 

I  knew  well  the  name  he  gave  me,  for  next  to  Iber- 
ville,  Serigny  was  reputed  the  most  accomplished  of  all 
the  Le  Moyne's.  To  his  fame  as  a  soldier,  his  attain- 
ments as  a  scholar,  he  added  the  easy  grace  of  the 
courtier.  His  position  at  the  court  of  Louis  gave  him 
great  prestige  throughout  the  colonies ;  he  being  a  sort 
of  adviser  to  the  King  on  colonial  affairs,  or  so  we  all 
then  thought  him.  Little  did  I  then  know  how  scant 
was  the  heed  paid  by  power  and  ambition  to  real  merit 
and  soldierly  virtues. 

This  while  we  sat  without  passing  a  word.  Truth  to 
tell  I  was  loath  to  leave  the  Governor,  for  I  knew  even 
better  than  he  how  much  of  treachery  there  was  in  those 
about  him.  Besides  that  I  had  no  confidence  in  my 
lieutenant,  and  yet  hated  to  acquaint  Bienville  with  the 
fact  for  fear  he  might  mistrust  my  motives.  I  was  heavy 
at  heart  and  dreaded  the  future. 

When,  somewhat  after  midnight,  I  arose  to  go,  he 
came  around  the  table  and  taking  me  by  both  shoulders 
gazed  steadily  into  my  face.  I  met  his  glance  frankly 
and  quailed  not. 

"Forgive  me,  Placide,  these  are  such  days  of  distrust  I 
doubt  every  one  about  me.  Forgive  me,  lad,  but  your 
old  commander's  reputation,  aye,  his  honor  even,  de- 
pends now  so  much  upon  your  fidelity." 

I  could  say  nothing.  I  felt  a  stealthy  tear  tremble  in 
my  eye,  yet  was  not  ashamed,  for  its  mate  glistened  in 
his  own,  and  he  was  a  man  not  given  to  over-weeping. 
2— BLACK  WOLF 


CHAPTER  III 

ABOARD    LE   DAUPHIN. 

THE  morning  dawned  moist  and  cold,  with  a  stiff 
westerly  wind.  Just  before  daylight  a  small  boat 
pushed  off  the  low  beach,  scraped  along  the  shallows, 
skirted  the  western  edge  of  the  island  which  there  lies 
endwise  across  the  harbor,  and  put  me  aboard  le  Dau- 
phin. 

I  alone  had  no  part  in  all  the  noisy  preparation  for 
departure,  but  sat  absorbed  in  thought  near  an  open  port 
listening  to  the  straining  of  the  masts,  the  flapping  sails, 
the  low  complaining  beat  of  the  wind-tormented  waters. 

Above  the  creak  of  the  windlass  raising  anchor,  I 
could  catch  snatches  of  whispered  conversation  just  out- 
side the  port.  The  two  men  were  beyond  my  range  of 
vision.  One  seemed  to  be  tossing  in  a  boat,  the  other 
hung  down  the  vessel's  side  by  a  ladder.  I  made  out, 
disjointedly : 

"Along  in  September — as  soon  as  you  return — all 
will  be  in  readiness — two  thousand  Creeks,  Chickasaws, 
Natchez — we  ought  to  have  no  difficulty — Yvard — Span- 
ish ships.  The  fall  of  Biloxi  will  be  a  great  thing  for 
us."  And  much  more  that  I  could  not  hear  clearly. 
(18) 


ABOARD   LE   DAUPHIN  19 

But  I  had  heard  enough  to  know  there  was  some 
truth  in  the  rumor  of  a  Spanish-Indian  alliance,  and  an 
attack  on  Biloxi.  And  the  name  Yvard,  being  unusual, 
clung  somewhat  to  my  memory. 

I  immediately  ran  on  deck  and  sauntered  over  towards 
that  side,  seeking  to  discover  the  traitor.  No  one  was 
there,  only  a  little  group  of  officers  walking  about;  to- 
wards the  shore  were  the  retreating  outlines  of  a  light 
boat.  I  knew  none  of  these  officers,  any  one  of  whom 
might  have  been  the  man  I  overheard,  and  so  I  durst 
ask  no  questions.  I  could  therefore  confide  in  no  one 
on  board  for  fear  of  making  a  mistake,  but  must  rely 
upon  giving  Bienville  prompt  warning  upon  my  return, 
and  I  must  needs  hide  my  reluctance  and  mingle  with 
officers  and  men,  for  perchance  by  this  means  I  might 
uncover  the  scoundrel. 

Although  I  made  free  with  the  men,  pitched  quoits, 
and  joined  in  their  rough  play,  I  trusted  none,  suspected 
all.  No,  not  all.  There  were  two  young  fellows  whom 
I  was  many  times  on  the  point  of  calling  to  my  confi- 
dence, but,  thinking  it  wiser,  kept  my  own  counsel. 
Treason  could  ever  wear  a  smiling  front  and  air  of  frank- 
ness. 

Levert  was  a  man  much  older  than  myself,  of  gloomy 
and  taciturn  manners,  yet  something  there  was  so  mas- 
terful about  him  men  obeyed  him  whether  they  would 
or  no.  A  more  silent  man  I  never  knew,  yet  courteous 
and  stately  withal,  and  well  liked  by  the  men.  But  it 
was  to  Achille  Broussard  my  heart  went  out  in  those 
days  of  loneliness.  His  almost  childish  lightness  of  dis- 


2O  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

position  and  his  friendly  ways  won  me  completely,  and 
we  became  fast  comrades.  A  noble  looking  lad,  with  the 
strength  of  a  young  Titan,  and  the  blonde  curls  of  a 
woman.  During  the  long  idle  hours  of  the  afternoon  it 
was  his  custom  to  banter  me  for  a  bout  at  swords,  and 
Levert  generally  acted  as  our  master  of  the  lists.  At 
first  he  was  much  my  superior  with  the  foils,  for  dur- 
ing his  days  with  the  Embassy  at  Madrid,  and  in  the 
schools  at  Paris,  he  had  learned  those  hundreds  of 
showy  and  fancy  little  tricks  of  which  we  in  the  forests 
knew  nothing.  However,  I  doubted  not  that  on  the 
field  our  rougher  ways  and  sterner  methods  would  count 
for  quite  as  much. 

With  all  the  five  long  weeks  of  daily  practice,  I  gath- 
ered many  things  from  him,  until  one  day  we  had  an 
experience  which  made  us  lay  the  foils  aside  for  good. 

We  had  been  sitting  after  the  dinner  hour,  discussing 
his  early  life  in  Paris.  He  wound  up  with  his  usual 
declaration,  "As  for  myself,  give  me  the  gorgeous 
plays,  the  fetes  and  smiles  of  the  Montespan,  rather 
than  the  prayers,  the  masses  and  the  sober  gowns  of  de 
Maintenon.  And  now  it  is  your  turn,  comrade;  let  us 
know  something  of  your  escapades,  your  days  of  folly 
in  dear  old  Paris." 

"I  have  never  seen  Paris,"  I  answered  simply. 

"What!  Never  been  to  Paris?  Then,  man,  you 
have  never  lived.  But  where  have  you  spent  all  your 
days?" 

"In  the  colonies — Quebec,  Montreal,  Biloxi.  But 
now  I  will  have  an  opportunity,  for  I  am  going — " 


ABOARD    LE   DAUPHIN  21 

I  had  almost  told  something  of  my  mission,  ere  I 
checked  a  too  fluent  confidence. 

Levert,  who  had  been  pacing  up  and  down  the  deck 
in  his  absorbed  and  inattentive  way,  dropped  his  blade 
across  my  shoulder  and  challenged  me  to  the  foils. 

"No,  it  is  too  early  yet,"  Achille  replied,  "besides, 
we  were  talking  of  other  things.  As  you  were  saying, 
comrade,  you  go — ?" 

"Oh,  you  two  talk  too  much,"  Levert  broke  in  again, 
"let  us  have  a  bout;  I'm  half  a  mind  I  can  handle  a 
foil  myself.  A  still  tongue,  a  clear  head  and  a  sharp 
blade  are  the  tools  of  Fortune." 

It  seemed  almost  that  he  had  twice  interrupted  pur- 
posely to  keep  me  from  talking.  I  thought  I  read  that 
deeper  meaning  in  his  eyes.  Somehow  I  grew  to  dis- 
trust him  from  that  moment.  What  consequence  was 
it  to  him  of  what  I  spoke? 

It  was  not  Levert 's  business  to  govern  my  tongue  for 
me,  so  I  only  said: 

"Nay,  we'll  try  our  skill  somewhat  later;  not  now," 
and  resumed  my  conversation  with  Achille. 

While  his  manner  showed  a  concern  I  deemed  the 
matter  little  to  warrant,  yet  it  did  make  me  consider,  so 
I  determined  not  to  speak  truly  of  myself. 

"Well,  now,  comrade,  of  your  own  intrigues.  You 
were  say  ing — ?" 

"Nay,  nothing  of  that  kind.  I  journey  to  Paris  sim- 
ply for  my  own  pleasure."  Levert,  who  half  listened  at 
a  distance  knew  I  was  going  to  heed  his  advice,  though 


22  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

I  misdoubted  his  motive,  and  again  took  up  his  pacing 
to  and  fro. 

"Aye,  my  dear  Captain,  but  'tis  a  long  trip  for  such 
an  errand?" 

"Yes,  quite  a  long  trip,  but  I  weary  of  the  life  at 
Biloxi,  and  would  amuse  myself  for  a  while  in  France." 

"But  the  garrison  at  Biloxi;  is  that  strong  enough  to 
spare  so  good  a  soldier?  then  the  Indians,  do  you  not 
fear  them?" 

I  glanced  at  him  quickly,  only  half  betraying  my 
thought,  but  replied  nonchalantly : 

"No,  the  Indians  are  quiet,  at  least  so  our  scouts  tell 
us,  and  as  for  the  state  of  the  garrison,  you  were  long 
enough  ashore  to  know  we  are  strong." 

"Ah,  then,  there  is  another  motive;  a  woman. 
Come,  is  it  not  true?  Confess?" 

I  blushed  in  spite  of  myself;  it  was  an  idle  way  I  had, 
for  I  had  seen  little  of  women.  My  confusion  threw  him 
completely  off  the  track ;  had  I  only  guessed  it,  would 
have  taken  refuge  in  that  device  sooner. 

"No,  no,  comrade;  you  are  wrong" — but  still  some- 
how my  color  came  and  went  like  a  novice  out  of  the 
convent.  His  good-humored  raillery  continued  until  I 
became  annoyed  in  earnest,  yet  was  glad  he  took  the 
matter  so  seriously.  When  Levert  passed  us  again  on 
his  walk  I  spoke  to  him. 

"Now,  my  dear  Levert,  we  will  try  our  fortune  with 
the  foils  if  it  pleases  you." 

"No,  my  humor  is  past.  Do  you  try  with  Broussard ; 


ABOARD    LE   DAUPHIN  23 

methinks  he  had  rather  the  better  of  you  yesterday. 
You  agree,  Broussard?" 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  replied,  eagerly,  "let  us  at  it." 

He  fenced  rather  worse  than  usual,  so  I  had  no  trouble 
in  touching  him  as  I  pleased.  This  begat  an  irritation 
of  manner,  and  noticing  it  I  suggested  we  leave  off. 

He  would  not  hear  to  it ;  I  saw  the  color  slowly  leave 
his  face;  his  thin  lips  curled  back  and  showed  his  teeth, 
until,  fearing  a  serious  outbreak,  I  stepped  back  as  if  I 
would  lay  aside  the  foil.  He  pressed  me  close,  so  close 
indeed  I  could  not  if  I  would  drop  my  guard.  He 
touched  me  once  or  twice. 

"I  call  the  bout  a  draw,"  declared  Levert,  who  had 
himself  observed  Broussard 's  unusual  energy. 

"Nay,  not  so,  not  so;  he  gives  back.  I've  much  the 
better,"  and  he  lunged  at  me  so  vigorously  I  was  forced 
to  act  with  more  aggression.  The  button  snapped  from 
the  point  of  his  foil ;  I  cared  not,  and  he  affected  not  to 
see  it,  though  something  made  me  sure  he  realized  his 
advantage.  I  determined  now  to  show  him  a  trick  of 
my  own. 

From  my  youth  I  had  the  peculiar  faculty  of  using 
one  hand  quite  as  well  as  the  other,  and  had  often  prac- 
ticed changing  my  sword  swiftly  from  right  to  left.  It 
was  a  simple  feat,  much  more  showy  than  difficult,  yet 
exceedingly  bewildering  to  an  adversary.  In  this  in- 
stance it  afforded  me  an  easy  means  of  reaching  his 
undefended  side.  So  I  feigned  to  be  driven  back,  and 
watching  for  a  more  headlong  and  careless  rush,  my 
weapon  was  apparently  twisted  from  my  hand  and  for  an 


24  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

instant  seemed  to  hang  suspended  in  the  air.  I  caught 
it  in  my  left  and  before  he  recovered  his  footing  had 
thrown  his  foil  from  him,  sending  it  whizzing  overboard. 
It  took  but  an  instant  to  press  my  point  firmly  against 
his  chest,  as  he  stood  panting  and  disarmed.  Never 
was  man  more  surprised. 

"Bravely  done,"  cried  Levert. 

"A  most  foul  and  dishonorable  trick,"  Achille 
snarled. 

"Not  so,"  Levert  corrected  him  gravely,  looking  at 
me  to  observe  the  effect  of  the  insult.  I  stood  still  at 
guard,  but  made  no  move. 

"Broussard,  you  are  angry  now,  and  I'll  take  no 
heed  of  your  heated  words.  But  to-morrow  you  must 
make  a  gentleman's  amends." 

"Tush,  tush,"  Levert  interposed,  "  'tis  the  quarrel  of 
a  child.  He  means  nothing." 

Broussard  said  no  more,  but  looked  surly  and  ill 
pleased.  I  was  secretly  elated  at  the  success  of  my  coup 
against  such  a  skilled  swordsman,  and  only  remarked 
quietly : 

"Broussard,  when  your  anger  has  passed  I  trust  you 
will  do  me  the  honor  of  an  apology." 

Behind  it  all  I  cared  little,  for  I  felt  myself  his  mas- 
ter with  his  chosen  weapon  and  could  afford  to  be  gen- 
erous. He  came  up  in  very  manly  fashion,  after  a  time, 
and  craved  my  forgiveness,  but  we  played  at  foils  no 
more. 

The  lookouts  were  beginning  to  watch  for  land,  I 
growing  more  and  more  impatient  as  the  end  of  our 


ABOARD    LE   DAUPHIN  2$ 

voyage  drew  near.  And  now  I  had  much  leisure  to 
contemplate,  and  wonder  at  the  strange  turn  of  fortune 
which  had  called  upon  me  to  play  a  part  in  the  affairs 
of  state,  though  what  the  drama  was,  and  what  my  lines 
might  be,  I  could  only  guess.  The  story  of  Colonel 
D'Ortez,  too,  furnished  me  much  food  for  reflection 
these  long  starlit  nights,  when  I  sat  in  my  favorite  seat 
in  the  very  prow  of  the  vessel.  There  would  I  sit  night 
after  night,  watching  the  phosphorescent  waves  rippling 
against  the  vessel,  gleaming  fitful  in  the  gloom;  there 
observe  the  steadfast  stars,  and  seem  alone  with  dark- 
ness and  with  God. 

One  wet  morning,  pacing  the  slippery  deck,  the  sail- 
ing master  called  to  me : 

"See,  sir,  yonder  dim  outline  to  the  nor'east?  Tis 
the  Norman  coast ;  this  night,  God  willing,  we  sleep  in 
Dieppe." 

My  errand  now  consumed  my  entire  attention,  so  I 
thought  no  more  of  my  companions  of  the  voyage,  bid- 
ding them  both  good-night  before  we  had  yet  landed. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  ROAD  TO  VERSAILLES 

AT  the  break  of  day,  rumbling  out  of  the  little  fish, 
ing  village,  I  was  surprised  to  see  both  Broussard 
and  Levert  astir  as  early  as  myself,  each  in  a  separate 
coach,  traveling  the  same  direction.  I  thought  it  strange 
that  they  chose  to  go  separately,  and  that  neither  had 
told  me  of  his  expected  journey.  However  that  might 
be,  as  it  suited  my  purpose  well  to  be  alone,  I  disturbed 
not  myself  with  pondering  over  it.  Yet  I  wondered 
somewhat. 

The  King  and  Court  were  at  Versailles ;  so  judging  to 
find  Serigny  there  I  turned  aside  from  my  first  intention 
and  proceeded  thither.  I  was  shocked  by  the  universal 
desolation  of  the  country  through  which  I  passed.  Was 
this  the  reverse  side  to  all  the  Grand Monarque' s  glory? 
I  had  pictured  la  belle  France  as  a  country  of  wine,  of 
roses  and  of  happy  people.  These  ravaged  fields,  these 
squalid  dens  of  misery,  the  sullen,  despairing  faces  of 
the  peasantry,  all  bore  silent  protest  to  the  extrava- 
gances of  Versailles.  For  the  wars,  the  ambition  and 
the  mistresses  of  Louis  had  made  of  this  fair  land  a 
desert.  Through  the  devastated  country  roamed  thou- 
sands of  starving  people,  gaunt  and  hungry  as  the  wild 
(26) 


THE   ROAD   TO   VERSAILLES  2 7 

beasts  of  the  forest;  they  subsisted  upon  such  berries  as 
they  found,  but  durst  not  touch  a  stick  of  their  lord's 
wood  to  thaw  out  their  frozen  bodies. 

Young  as  I  was,  and  a  soldier,  the  sight  of  this  wide- 
spread suffering  appalled  me,  though  being  no  philoso- 
pher I  reasoned  not  to  the  cause.  Yet  this  was  the  real 
France,  the  foundation  upon  which  the  King  had  reared 
the  splendid  structure  of  his  pride. 

It  was  some  time  during  the  second  day,  I  think, 
when  we  passed  a  few  scattering  hovels  which  marked 
the  approach  to  a  village  where  we  were  to  stop  for  din- 
ner. At  the  foot  of  a  little  incline  the  horses  shied  vio- 
lently, and  passed  beyond  the  man's  control.  My  driver 
endeavored  in  vain  to  quiet  them,  and  then  jumped  from 
his  box  and  ran  to  their  heads.  I  looked  out  to  see 
what  the  matter  was,  and  observing  a  squad  of  soldiers, 
followed  by  quite  a  concourse  of  villagers,  I  sprang  to 
the  ground. 

Down  the  hill  they  marched,  some  tenor  fifteen  fel- 
lows in  a  dirty  half  uniform,  I  knew  not  what  it  was, 
while  straggling  out  behind  them  seemed  to  follow  the 
entire  population  of  the  hamlet.  The  old  and  gray- 
haired  fathers,  the  mothers,  the  stalwart  children  and 
toddling  babies,  all  came  to  stand  and  gape.  In  the  lead 
there  strode  a  burly  ruffian,  proud  of  his  low  authority, 
who  shouted  at  intervals : 

' '  So-with-the-H-u-g-u-e-n-o-t-s ! ' ' 

Behind  him  skulked  four  stout  varlets,  bearing  be- 
tween them  a  rude  plank,  on  which  was  stretched  a 
naked  body,  the  limbs  being  not  yet  stiffened  in  death. 


28  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

I  hardly  credited  my  sight.  Before  they  came  abreast 
of  us  I  inquired  of  the  driver  what  it  all  meant.  He 
only  shrugged  his  shoulders,  "A  dead  Huguenot,  I 
suppose,"  and  gave  his  care  to  the  horses.  Verily  this 
was  past  belief. 

I  placed  myself  in  the  road  and  bade  the  leader  of 
the  procession  pause.  He  stopped,  staring  stupidly  at 
my  dress. 

"What  is  here  my  good  fellow?  what  crime  hath  he 
committed?" 

He,  like  the  driver,  answered  carelessly: 

"None;   she  is  a  Huguenot." 

"S/te,"  I  echoed,  and  stopped  the  bearers  who  laid 
their  ghastly  burden  down,  having  little  relish  in  the 
task.  Yes,  it  was  in  very  truth  a  woman. 

"For  the  sake  of  decency,  comrade,  why  do  you  not 
cover  her  and  give  her  Christian  burial?" 

"It  is  the  law,"  he  replied  stolidly. 

"Yes,  yes,  it  is  the  law,"  eagerly  assented  the  peo- 
ple who  gathered  about  the  corpse,  not  as  friends,  not 
as  mourners,  but  as  spectators  of  the  horrid  scene. 
Among  them,  unrebuked,  were  many  white-faced  chil- 
dren, half  afraid  and  wholly  curious.  I  looked  at  them 
all  in  disgust.  They  went  their  way  and  came  to  the 
outskirts  of  the  village,-  where  they  contemptuously 
tossed  the  woman  from  the  plank  across  a  ditch  into  the 
open  field.  In  spite  of  my  loathing  I  had  followed. 

I  perceived  now  a  feeble  old  woman  hobble  up  to* 
ward  the  body  and  try  with  loud  wailings  to  make  her 
way  through  the  guard  which  surrounded  it.  They 


THE   ROAD   TO   VERSAILLES  29 

shoved  her  back  with  their  pikes,  and  finally  one  of 
them  struck  her  for  her  persistence. 

"Pierre,  look  at  her  old  mother;  ah,  Holy  Virgin, 
what  a  stubborn  lot  are  these  heretics." 

Her  mother  !  Great  powers  of  heaven,  could  it  be  pos- 
sible? My  indignation  blazed  out  against  the  inhuman 
guard. 

"Why  do  ye  this  most  un-Christian  thing?"  and 
to  the  crowd : 

"Do  you  call  yourselves  men  to  stand  by  and  witness 
this?" 

At  my  words  one  sturdy  young  fellow,  of  the  better, 
peasant-farmer  class,  broke  from  those  who  held  him 
and  would  have  thrown  himself  unarmed  against  the 
mail-clad  guard.  Many  strong  arms  kept  him  back. 
He  struggled  furiously  for  a  while,  then  sank  in  the 
sheer  desperation  of  exhaustion  upon  the  road.  As  soon 
as  he  was  quiet  the  mob,  gathering  about  the  more 
attractive  spectacle,  left  him  quite  alone.  I  went  up  to 
him,  laid  my  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  and  spoke  to  him 
kindly.  He  looked  up,  surprised  that  one  wearing  a 
uniform  should  show  him  human  sympathy.  He  had 
a  good,  honest  face,  blue-eyed  and  frank,  yet  such  an 
expression  of  utter  hopelessness  as  never  marred  a  mortal 
countenance.  It  haunts  me  to  this  day. 

I  was  touched  by  the  man's  sullen  apathy,  succeed- 
ing so  quickly  to  the  desperate  energy  I  had  seen  him 
display,  and  asked  concerning  his  trouble. 

"Oh,  God,  Monsieur,  my  wife,  Celeste,  my  young 
wife  !  Only  a  year  married ,  Monsieur. ' '  He  raised  upon 


30  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

his  elbow,  taking  my  hand  in  both  of  his,  "We  tried  to 
go;  tried  to  reach  England,  America,  anywhere  but 
France ;  they  brought  us  back,  put  us  in  prison ;  she 
died — died,  Monsieur,  of  cruelty  and  exposure,  then 
they  cast  her  out  like  some  unclean  thing;  she,  so  pure, 
so  good.  Only  look,  lying  there.  Holy  Mother  of 
Christ,  look  down  upon  her." 

He  turned  his  gaze  to  where  his  wife  lay  and  sprang  up. 

"She  shall  not — shall  not,"  and  cast  himself  again 
towards  the  guard.  A  dozen  men  seized  him. 

Deeply  pained  by  his  misery  and  the  horror  of  the 
thing,  I  made  my  way  to  the  front,  near  where  the  body 
lay. 

"What  is  this  foul  law  of  which  you  spoke?  Tell 
me?" 

My  tone  had  somewhat  of  authority  and  anger  in  it, 
so  the  fellow  gave  me  civil  answer. 

"The  law  buries  a  Huguenot  as  you  see — such  un- 
holy flesh  could  never  sleep  in  holy  earth.  The  beasts 
and  birds  will  provide  her  proper  sepulcher." 

"Nay,  but  compose  her  fittingly;   here  is  my  cloak." 

"It  is  not  the  order  of  the  King,"  he  sullenly  replied. 
The  brutal  throng  again  gave  assent. 

"  'Tis  not  the  law,  'tis  not  the  law,  and  bowed  their 
heads  at  very  name  of  law. 

I  remembered  the  Governor's  errand,  and  could  waste 
no  time  in  quarrel  which  was  not  mine,  yet  willingly 
would  I  have  cast  my  cloak  about  her.  I  inquired  of 
the  man : 


THE   ROAD   TO   VERSAILLES  3! 

"And  what  is  the  penalty  should  the  hand  of  charity 
take  this  woman  from  the  highway?" 

"On  pain  of  death." 

"Then  death  let  it  be,"  screamed  her  husband,  and 
breaking  through  the  line  of  guard,  he  threw  himself 
upon  his  wife,  protecting  her  with  his  pitying  garments. 

Whilst  I  had  been  talking  to  the  officer,  no  one  ob- 
served the  man  come  stealthily  to  the  front,  coat  in 
hand,  until,  seeing  his  chance,  he  broke  through  their 
line.  But  these  staunch  upholders  of  the  law  would 
not  have  it  so.  They  tore  him  viciously  away,  and  I, 
sickened,  turned  from  a  revolting  struggle  I  could 
do  nothing  to  prevent.  All  these  long  years  have  not 
dimmed  the  memory  of  that  barbarous  scene. 


CHAPTER  V 

THE  DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES 

IT  was  nearly  noon  on  the  fourth  day  when  I  alighted 
at  the  Place  d'Armes,  the  grand  court-yard  of  Ver- 
sailles, and  I  fear  I  cut  but  a  sorry  figure  for  a  gover- 
nor's messenger.  It  appeared  that  my  dress  at  best 
was  unlike  that  worn  at  the  court;  my  fringed  leather 
leggings,  hunting  knife  and  long  sword  differed  much 
from  the  wigs  and  frizzes  worn  by  the  officers  of  the 
guard.  However,  I  made  bold  to  seem  at  ease  and 
accustomed  to  court  as  I  addressed  the  officer  of  the 
watch. 

"Can  you  direct  me,  sir,  to  M.  de  Serigny?  I  have 
business  with  him." 

The  man  smiled,  I  knew  not  at  what,  and  regarded 
me  curiously.  I  felt  my  face  flush,  but  repeated  the 
question. 

"M.  de  Serigny,"  he  replied,  "is  with  the  court. 
Seek  him  at  his  apartments.  Pass  through  yonder  great 
gate,  turn  to  the  left  and  inquire  of  the  guard  at  the 
door." 

I  walked  on  hastily,  glad  to  be  quit  of  his  inspection. 
Such  a  throng  of  fine  gentlemen  in  silks,  satins  and  rib- 
bons I  never  dreamed  of;  even  the  soldiers  seemed 
(32) 


THE   DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES  33 

dressed  more  for  bridals  than  for  battles.  I  held  my 
peace  though,  walking  steadily  onward  as  directed,  yet 
itching  to  stick  my  sword  into  some  of  their  dainty  trap- 
pings. At  the  door  I  came  upon  a  great  throng  of 
loungers  playing  at  dice,  some  throwing  and  others  lay- 
ing their  wagers  upon  those  who  threw. 

Standing  somewhat  aloof  was  a  slender  young  fellow 
who  wore  the  slashed  silver  and  blue  of  the  King's  own 
guard — I  knew  the  colors  well  from  some  of  our  older 
officers  in  the  Provincial  army.  They  had  told  me  of 
men,  soldiers  and  hard  fighters,  too,  wearing  great  friz- 
zled wigs  outside  their  natural  hair,  with  ruffles  on  their 
sleeves  and  perfumed  laces  at  their  throats — but  I  had 
generally  discredited  such  tales.  Here  was  a  man 
dressed  more  gaily  than  I  had  ever  seen  a  woman  in  my 
childhood — and  he  seemed  a  fine,  likely  young  fellow, 
too.  I  fear  I  examined  him  rather  critically  and  with- 
out proper  deference  to  his  uniform,  for  he  turned  upon 
me  angrily,  catching  my  glance. 

"Well,  my  good  fellow,  didst  never  see  the  King's 
colors  before?  Where  hast  thou  lived  then  all  these 
years  ? ' ' 

He  seemed  quite  as  much  amused  at  my  plain  forest 
garb,  leggings  and  service  cap,  as  I  had  been  at  his 
silken  trumpery.  I  replied  to  him  as  quietly  as  might  be : 

"In  our  parts  beyond  the  seas  we  hear  often  of  the 
King's  Guard,  but  never  have  my  eyes  rested  upon  their 
uniform  before." 

Observing  my  shoulder  straps  he  unbent  somewhat  and 
inquired : 

3— BLACK  WOLF 


34  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Thou  bearest  the  rank  of  captain?" 

"Aye,  comrade,  in  the  service  of  the  King  in  his 
province  of  Louisiana.  I  pray  you  direct  me  to  the 
apartments  of  M.  de  Serigny,  I  would  have  speech  with 
him." 

He  was  a  manly  young  lad,  of  soldierly  bearing,  too, 
despite  his  effeminate  dress;  he  turned  and  himself 
guided  me  through  the  many  intricate  halls  and  pass- 
ages until  we  reached  a  door  which  he  pointed  out  as 
Serigny's,  where,  with  polite  speeches,  he  left  me  alone. 

Monsieur  was  out,  at  what  business  the  servant  did 
not  know,  but  would  return  at  two  of  the  clock.  In  the 
meantime  I  sought  to  amuse  myself  strolling  about  the 
place.  I  knew  I  could  find  my  way  along  the  bayou  paths 
of  Louisiana  the  darkest  night  God  ever  sent,  for  there 
at  least  I  would  have  through  the  trees  the  glimmer  of  a 
friendly  star  to  guide  me.  But  here  in  the  King's  pal- 
ace of  Versailles,  with  the  winding  passages  running 
hither  and  yonder,  each  as  like  the  other  as  twin  gaunt- 
lets, I  lost  myself  hopelessly. 

Clanking  about  alone  over  the  tiles  in  great  deserted 
corridors  I  grew  almost  frightened  at  my  own  noise  un- 
til I  passed  out  into  an  immense  gallery,  gaily  deco- 
rated, and  thronged  with  the  ladies  and  gentlemen  of 
the  court.  I  could  not  make  much  sense  of  it  all  except 
it  seemed  greatly  painted  up,  especially  overhead,  and 
nearly  every  figure  bore  the  face  of  the  King. 

From  the  windows  I  could  see  a  strange  forest  where 
every  tree  grew  in  the  shape  of  some  odd  beast  or  bird, 


THE   DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES  35 

being  set  in  long  rows,  and  among  them  were  white 
images  of  some  substance  like  unto  the  Holy  Mother  at 
the  shrine  in  Montreal.  Some  of  these  graven  stones 
were  in  semblance  of  men  with  horns  and  goats'  legs, 
and  some  of  warrior  women  with  plumed  helms  upon 
their  heads.  Verily  I  marveled  much  at  these  strange 
sights. 

The  pert  little  lads  who  idled  about  the  hall  began  to 
make  sport  of  me  concerning  my  dress,  and  laughed 
greatly  at  their  own  wit.  I  paid  no  heed  to  their  fool- 
ish gibes,  there  being  no  man  among  them.  It  irked 
me  more  than  good  sense  would  admit,  and  I  left  the 
hall,  and  after  many  vain  endeavors  made  my  way  out 
into  the  open  air — being  right  glad  to  breathe  again 
without  a  roof  above  my  head. 

I  was  ill  at  ease  among  all  these  gay  gallants  who 
minced  and  paced  along  like  so  many  string-halted 
nags.  It  was  said  the  King  walked  much  in  that  way, 
and  so,  forsooth,  must  all  his  lords  and  ladies  go.  Per- 
haps it  was  the  fashion  of  the  court,  but  I  stuck  to  the 
only  gait  1  knew,  a  good,  honest,  swinging  stride  which 
could  cover  fifteen  leagues  a  day  at  a  pinch. 

Off  to  one  side  the  water  kept  leaping  up  into  the  air 
as  I  am  told  the  spouting  springs  do  in  the  Dacotah 
country.  I  walked  that  way  and  was  soon  lost  in  won- 
derment at  the  contemplation  of  a  vast  bronze  basin 
filled  with  curious  brazen  beasts,  half  men  half  fishes, 
the  like  of  which  I  had  never  seen.  Some  had  horns 
from  which  they  blew  sparkling  streams ;  others  astride 
of  strange  sea  monsters  plunged  about  and  cast  up  jets 


3<5  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

of  water.  It  all  made  so  much  noise  I  scarcely  heard  a 
voice  behind  me  say: 

"I'll  lay  a  golden  Louis  his  coat  is  of  as  queer  a  cut 
as  his  nether  garment — whatever  its  outlandish  name 
maybe." 

"Done,"  said  another  voice. 

I  gave  no  heed,  thinking  they  meant  not  me,  until  a 
dapper  little  chap,  all  plumed  and  belaced,  stepped  in 
front  of  me  with  a  most  lordly  air. 

"Hey,  friend,  who  is  thy  tailor?"  and  behind  me  rang 
out  the  merry  laugh  at  such  a  famous  jest. 

I  turned  and  there  being  a  party  of  fine  ladies  at  my 
back  full  gladly  would  I  have  retired,  had  not  the  young 
braggart  swaggered  to  my  front  again  and  persisted : 

"Friend,  let  us  see  the  cut  of  thy  coat." 

We  men  of  the  forest  accustomed  to  the  rough  ways 
of  a  camp,  and  looking  not  for  insult,  are  slow  to  anger, 
so  I  only  asked  as  politely  as  might  be,  because  of  the 
ladies : 

"And  wherefore?" 

"Because  I  say  so,  sir,"  he  replied,  most  arrogantly 
and  stamping  his  foot,  "cast  off  thy  cloak  that  we  may 
see." 

I  still  stood  undecided,  scarce  knowing  what  to  think, 
and  being  ignorant  of  fashions  at  court.  De  Brienne — 
for  that  was  his  name — mistaking  my  hesitation,  ad- 
vanced and  laying  his  hand  upon  my  cloak  would  have 
torn  it  off,  had  I  not  brushed  him  aside  so  vigorously 
he  stumbled  and  fell  to  the  ground. 

I  had  no  thought  of  using  strength  sufficient  to  throw 


THE   DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES  37 

him  down.  He  sprang  up  instantly,  and,  furious,  drew 
his  sword.  I  felt  my  own  wrath  rise  at  sight  of  cold 
steel — it  was  ever  a  way  of  mine  beyond  control — and 
asked  him  hotly : 

"How  is  it  affair  of  thine  what  manner  of  coat  I 
wear?" 

He  made  no  reply,  but,  raising  his  arm,  said,  men- 
acingly : 

"Now,  clown,  show  thy  coat,  or  I'll  spit  thee  like  a 
dog." 

I  glanced  around  the  circle  at  the  blanched  faces  of 
the  ladies,  seeing  such  a  serious  turn  to  their  jest,  and 
would  not  even  then  have  drawn,  but  the  men  made  no 
effort  to  interfere,  so  I  only  answered  him,  "Nay,  I'll 
wear  my  cloak,"  when  he  made  a  quick  lunge  at  me.  I 
know  not  that  he  meant  me  serious  injury,  but  taking 
no  risk  my  blade  came  readily,  and  catching  his  slen- 
derer weapon  broke  it  short  off,  leaving  him  raging  and 
defenceless — a  simple  trick,  yet  not  learned  in  a  day. 
It  was  a  dainty  little  jewel-hilted  toy,  and  I  hated  to 
spoil  it. 

"Now,  sir,  thank  the  King's  uniform  for  thy  life," 
my  blood  was  up,  and  I  ached  to  teach  him  a  lesson, 
"I  cannot  turn  the  King's  sword  against  one  of  his 
servants." 

The  ladies  laughed  now,  and  the  hot  flush  mounted 
to  my  cheeks,  for  I  feared  a  woman,  but  their  merri- 
ment quickly  died  away  at  sound  of  an  imperious  voice 
saying : 

"For  shame  de  Brienne,  brawler!"    "And  thou,  my 


3 8  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

young  coxcomb  of  Orleans,"  he  continued,  addressing 
that  dissolute  Prince:  "How  dare  you,  sir,  lead  such 
a  throng  of  revellers  into  the  King's  own  gardens?  Is 
not  your  own  house  of  debauchery  sufficient  for  Your 
Grace?  Have  a  care,  young  sir,  I  am  yet  the  King, 
and  thou  mayest  never  be  the  Regent." 

The  Duke  simulated  his  profound  regret,  but  when 
Louis'  back  was  turned  made  a  most  unprincely  and 
most  uncourtly  grimace  at  his  royal  uncle,  which  set 
them  all  a-laughing.  Whereat  all  these  noble  lords  and 
ladies  made  great  pretense  of  gravity,  and  ostenta- 
tiously held  their  handkerchiefs  before  their  mouths  to 
hide  their  mirth. 

Already  these  satellites  began  to  desert  the  sinking 
to  attach  their  fortunes  to  those  of  the  rising  sun.  I 
marvelled  at  this,  for  the  name  of  Louis  had  been  held  in 
almost  Godlike  reverence  by  us  in  the  colonies.  Mean- 
while he  had  turned  to  me. 

"Well  said,  young  man;   thou  hast  a  loyal  tongue." 

"And  a  loyal  master,  sire,"  for  it  needed  not  the 
mention  of  his  name  to  tell  me  I  faced  the  King.  That 
face,  stamped  on  his  every  golden  namesake,  had  been 
familiar  to  me  since  the  earliest  days  of  my  childhood. 

"Thy  name,  sir?" 

Kingly  still,  though  a  little  bent,  for  he  was  now  well 
past  sixty,  Louis  stood  in  his  high-heeled  shoes  tapping 
the  ground  impatiently  with  a  long  cane,  his  flowing 
coat  fluttering  in  the  wind.  For  a  period  I  completely 
lost  my  tongue,  could  see  nothing  but  the  blazing  cross 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  red  order  of  St.  Louis,  upon  the 


THE   DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES  39 

Monarch's  breast,  could  hear  nothing  but  the  grating  of 
his  cane  against  the  gravel.  Yet  I  was  not  ashamed, 
for  a  brave  soldier  can  proudly  fear  his  God,  his  con- 
science and  his  King. 

"Thy  name,"  he  sharply  demanded,  "dost  hear?" 

"Placide  de  Mouret,  Captain  of  Bienville's  Guards, 
Province  of  Louisiana,  may  it  please  you,  sire,"  I  stam- 
mered out. 

"Attend  me  at  the  morning  hour  to-morrow,"  and 
he  strutted  away  from  the  giggling  crowd. 

I  too  would  have  turned  off,  had  not  my  late  antago- 
nist proven  himself  a  man  at  heart.  He  quickly  moved 
toward  me  holding  out  his  hand  in  reconciliation. 

"I  ask  thy  pardon,  comrade;  I  too  am  a  soldier, 
though  but  an  indifferent  one  in  these  peaceful  times. 
We  mistook  thee,  and  I  humbly  ask  thy  pardon." 

Of  course  I  could  bear  no  malice  against  the  fellow, 
and  he  seeming  sincere,  I  suffered  him  to  present  me  to 
his  friends.  First  among  these,  de  Brienne  presented 
me  to  His  Royal  Highness,  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  "First 
Prince  of  the  Blood,  and  the  coming  Regent  of  France." 

This  latter  speech  was  given  with  decided  emphasis, 
and  a  malicious  glance  toward  a  pale,  studious  looking 
man,  a  cripple,  who,  the  center  of  a  more  sedate  group, 
was  well  within  hearing.  The  deformed  Duke  of  Maine, 
I  thought,  rival  of  Orleans  for  the  Regency.  The 
ladies  I  would  have  willingly  escaped,  but  they  would 
not  hear  of  it,  and  soon  I  was  surrounded  by  a  chat- 
tering group,  asking  a  thousand  questions  about  the 
fabled  land  of  gold  and  glory  beyond  the  seas.  Right 


40          THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

glad  was  I  when  one  of  the  gallants  pointed  out  a 
thoughtful  looking  gentleman  who  walked  slowly 
through  the  eastern  gate. 

"There  is  M.  de  Serigny,  a  brother  of  Bienville,  your 
Governor." 

"That  de  Serigny?"  I  repeated,  "then  I  must  leave 
you,  for  I  would  speak  with  him,"  and  I  bowed  myself 
off  with  what  grace  I  could  muster,  knowing  naught  oi 
such  matters.  A  brisk  walk  fetched  me  to  Serigny's 
side.  In  a  few  words  I  communicated  my  mission.  His 
quick,  incisive  glance  took  in  every  detail  of  my  dress 
and  appearance,  but  his  features  never  changed. 

"Wait,  my  dear  Captain,"  he  drawled  out,  with  a 
polite  wave  of  his  perfumed  handkerchief,  "time  for 
business  after  a  while.  Let  us  enjoy  the  beauties  of  the 
garden." 

My  spirits  fell.  Could  this  be  a  brother  of  the  stern 
Bienville,  this  the  man  upon  whom  my  governor's 
fortunes  now  so  largely  depended?  His  foppish  manner 
impressed  me  very  disagreeably,  and,  in  no  pleasant 
frame  of  mind,  I  stalked  along  by  his  side  listening  to 
the  senseless  gossip  of  the  court.  We  soon  passed  out 
of  the  gardens  into  the  great  hall,  and  reached  his  own 
apartments. 

No  sooner  was  the  valet  dismissed  and  the  key  turned 
in  the  lock  than  his  face  showed  the  keenest  interest. 
After  satisfying  himself  of  my  identity  and  glancing 
through  the  packet  which  I  now  handed  him,  he  gave 
vent  to  an  exclamation  of  intense  relief. 

"Not  a  day  too  soon,  my  dear  Captain,  not  a  day, 


THE   DECADENCE  OF  VERSAILLES  41 

not  a  day,  not  a  day,"  he  kept  repeating  over  and  over, 
looking  at  the  different  documents.  "The  King  prom- 
ises to  act  on  this  matter  in  a  few  days,  to-morrow, 
probably.  Chamillard  is  against  us ;  he  seems  all  pow- 
erful now;  the  King  loves  him  for  his  truculence.  But 
these  will  help,  yes,  these  will  help."  And  again  he 
ran  through  the  various  papers  with  business-like  swift- 
ness. His  fashionable  air  and  the  perfumed  handker- 
chief were  alike  laid  aside.  Now  I  could  see  the  re- 
semblance between  him  and  his  sturdy  brother. 

"To-morrow,  yes,  to-morrow,  my  lad — pardon  me 
the  familiarity,  Captain  de  Mouret,"  he  apologized, 
waiving  aside  my  hand  raised  in  protest.  "To-morrow 
we  must  act.  We  must  gain  the  King's  own  ear.  These 
must  not  go  through  the  department  of  war.  Chamil- 
lard will  poison  the  King's  mind  against  us.  Most 
likely  they  would  never  reach  the  King  at  all.  Louis 
will  hardly  listen  to  me  even  now." 

"Then  let  me  speak  to  the  King,"  I  blurted  out  be- 
fore I  thought. 

"You?"  he  repeated  in  unconcealed  astonishment. 

"Yes,  I,"  I  replied,  for  I  was  now  well  into  it,  and 
determined  to  wade  through ;  besides  I  loved  my  old 
commander,  and  would  venture  much  in  his  service. 

Then  I  told  Serigny  of  the  occurrence  in  the  garden, 
or  enough  to  let  him  understand  why  I  was  summoned 
to  the  morning  audience. 

"Thou  art  lucky,  lad;  here  half  a  day  and  already 
have  an  appointment  with  the  King."  "Yes,"  he 
mused  half  aloud,  "Louis  likes  such  things.  He  grows 


42  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

suspicious  with  age,  and  doubts  even  his  ministers.  It 
is  quite  possible  he  may  question  you  of  affairs  in  the 
colonies.  If  so,  speak  out,  and  freely,  too,  my  lad; 
Louis  loves  the  plain  truth  when  it  touches  not  his 
princely  person  or  his  vanities.  God  grant  that  we  may 
win." 

Serigny  then  told  me  much  of  the  petty  trickery  of 
the  court  in  order  that  I  might  understand  how  the  land 
lay. 

"It  may  be  of  service  to  you  to  know  something  of 
the  many  webs  which  ambition,  cupidity  and  malice 
have  woven  about  us  here  in  this  great  government  of 
France,"  he  went  on,  speaking  bitterly.  "We  never 
dare  speak  our  thoughts,  for  blindness,  silence,  flattery 
and  fawning  seem  surer  passports  to  favor  than  are  gal- 
lant deeds  and  honest  service.  The  King  grows  old, 
and  it  is  feared  his  end  is  near.  Of  this,  men  scarcely 
whisper.  His  death,  as  you  know,  would  leave  all 
France  to  the  frail  little  Duke  of  Anjou.  Looking  to 
this,  the  court  here  is  already  divided  in  interest  be- 
tween the  rivals  for  the  regency,  Philip  of  Orleans,  and 
the  Duke  of  Maine.  The  Orleans  party  is  the  stronger, 
though  the  Duke  stands  accused  in  the  vulgar  mind  of  poi- 
soning all  who  may  come  between  himself  and  the  throne, 
save  this  Anjou  child,  who  will  probably  die  of  sheer 
weakness.  The  King  has  recently  had  his  de  Montespan 
children  legitimated  and  rendered  capable  of  inheriting 
the  crown,  though  the  legality  of  this  action  is  bitterly 
contested  by  the  Orleanists.  He  has  also,  it  is  said, 
left  a  will  in  favor  of  the  Duke  of  Maine,  giving  him  all 


THE   DECADENCE   OF  VERSAILLES  43 

real  power,  while  nominally  making  Orleans  the  Regent. 
And  strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  is  said  this  will  was  made 
at  the  persistent  request  of  de  Maintenon,  so  viciously 
hated  by  the  proud  de  Montespan.  But  you  know  she 
was  the  teacher  of  this  little  Duke,  and  they  are  very 
much  attached  to  each  other.  Were  the  Duke  of  Maine 
a  more  vigorous  man,  there  would  be  no  doubt  of  his 
success.  If  'that  little  wasp  of  Sceaux,'  as  Madame 
Orleans  calls  the  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Maine,  were 
the  man  of  the  family,  she  would  surely  be  the  Regent. 
She's  a  wonderful  woman.  Madame  du  Maine  hates 
Bienville  because  she  can  not  use  him  in  her  dealings 
with  Spain.  She  has  duped  the  Bretons  by  the  prom- 
ise of  an  independent  provincial  government,  but  Bien- 
ville stands  true  to  his  King.  So  they  seek  by  every 
means  to  discredit  him.  You  may  surmise  from  this 
how  unfortunately  our  affairs  here  are  complicated  in 
the  affairs  of  great  personages,  where  lesser  men  lose 
their  lives  at  the  first  breath  of  suspicion." 

After  a  little  I  had  ample  opportunity  to  observe 
the  man  more  closely,  for  he  kept  his  seat  to  examine 
at  leisure  the  dispatches  I  had  brought.  He  was  evi- 
dently not  entirely  pleased  with  this  inspection,  giving 
vent  at  times  to  low  expressions  of  annoyance. 

"Always  the  same  trouble,  la  Salle  and  de  laVente, 
spies  in  Biloxi — Ah,  here  is  the  fine  hand  of  Madame 
du  Maine,  currying  favor  with  the  Spaniard  in  aid  of 
her  cripple  husband.  If  we  could  only  make  this  plain 
to  Louis;  this  stirring  up  of  strife.  Fancy  a  son  of  de 
Montespan  on  the  throne  of  France.  Yes,  yes,  yes, 


44  THE   BLACK    WOLF'S   BREED 

here  is  the  awkward  work  of  our  old  friend  Crozat,  the 
tradesman,  who  would  purchase  an  empire  of  the  King. 
See  how  clumsily  he  throws  out  his  golden  bait." 

I  could  but  listen  and  observe.  Now,  more  than  ever, 
in  the  sternness  and  decision  of  his  countenance  he  re- 
sembled his  famous  brothers,  Iberville,  Sauvolle  and 
Bienville — and  yet  beyond  them  all  he  possessed  the 
faculties  of  a  courtier. 

"Captain,  are  you  acquainted  with  the  nature  of  these 
dispatches?"  he  asked  directly. 

"No,  sire,  only  in  general,  and  from  my  knowledge 
of  affairs  at  Biloxi." 

"My  brother  tells  me  I  may  trust  you."  My  face 
flushed  hotly  with  the  blood  of  anger. 

"Oh,  my  dear  Captain,  I  meant  no  offense;  I  speak 
plainly,  and  there  are  few  men  about  this  court  whom 
you  can  trust.  There  is  an  adventure  of  grave  impor- 
tance upon  which  I  wish  to  employ  you.  Your  being 
unknown  in  Paris  may  assist  us  greatly." 

I  signified  my  attention. 

"It  is  supposed  we  are  on  the  eve  of  war  with  Spain, 
and  it  is  my  belief  the  colonies  will  be  the  first  objects 
of  attack.  Some  person,  and  one  who  is  in  our  confi- 
dence, is  now  carrying  on  a  secret  correspondence  with 
the  Spanish  agent  at  Paris.  Cellamare,  the  Spanish 
Ambassador,  is  concerned  in  the  intrigue.  This  much 
we  know  from  letters  which  have  fallen  into  my  hands, 
and  I  have  permitted  them  to  be  delivered  rather  than 
interrupt  a  correspondence  which  will  eventually  lead  to 
a  discovery  of  the  traitor.  We  have  now  good  rea- 


THE   DECADENCE   OF   VERSAILLES  45 

son  to  believe  that  dispatches  of  a  very  serious  na- 
ture are  expected  daily  by  Yvard — Yvard  is  the  Spanish 
spy—" 

"Yvard,  Yvard,"  I  mentally  repeated,  where  had  I 
heard  that  name  ? 

"These  papers  are  to  give  our  exact  strength  at 
Biloxi,  the  plans  of  our  fortifications,  and  a  chart  of  all 
the  navigable  waters  of  Louisiana.  We  can  not  afford 
to  let  the  Spaniards  have  this  information,  even  if  there- 
by we  should  capture  their  agent." 

I  maintained  a  strict  silence. 

"You  understand  le  Dauphin  is  the  last  vessel  over, 
and  no  other  is  expected  for  months,  so  we  think  all 
this  information  came  over  with  you." 

When  he  began  I  instinctively  thought  of  Levert,  who 
set  out  alone  for  Paris  just  behind  me.  As  he  pro- 
ceeded, the  name  "Yvard"  again  fixed  my  attention. 
The  very  name  I  had  heard  mentioned  by  one  of  the 
men  the  morning  I  left  Biloxi.  Serigny  was  right  in 
his  surmise,  but  I  let  him  go  on  without  interruption. 

"If  I  am  correct,  these  plans  will  be  perfected  in  Paris 
before  le  Dauphin  sails  again.  The  spy,  whoever  he 
may  be,  will  perhaps  want  to  return  in  her.  Now  you 
can  see  what  I  want.  You  can  understand  what  a  help 
you  may  possibly  be  in  this  matter.  You  doubtless 
know  every  person  who  came  over  in  le  Dauphin,  yet 
you  must  avoid  notice  yourself,  for  they  would  suspect 
you  instantly." 

I  still  said  nothing  to  him  of  the  conversation  I  had 
overheard,  or  of  my  own  suspicions,  childishly  thinking 


46  THE   BLACK    WOLF'S    BREED 

I  would  gain  the  greater  credit  by  unearthing  the  whole 
affair  and  divulging  it  at  one  time. 

"We  have  some  reliable  fellows  in  Paris,  and  I  will 
send  such  letters  as  will  put  you  in  possession  of  all  the 
information  they  have.  You  and  they,  I  trust,  can  do 
the  work  satisfactorily,  but  in  no  event  shall  my  name, 
or  that  of  Bienville,  be  connected  with  the  enterprise. 
If  the  matter  should  come  to  the  King,  we  would  lose 
what  little  hold  we  now  have  upon  him.  It  is  not  an 
easy  or  an  agreeable  task.  The  Spanish  spy  bears  the 
name  of  Carne  Yvard,  a  man  of  good  birth,  but  a  gam- 
bler and  a  profligate.  He  is  known  throughout  Paris 
as  a  reckless  gamester,  but  no  man  dare  question  him, 
because  of  his  marvellous  skill  with  the  sword.  He 
spends  much  of  his  time  at  Bertrand's  wine  and  card 
rooms,  though  he  has  the  entree  at  some  of  the  most 
fashionable  houses  in  the  city,  even  at  Madame  du 
Maine's  exclusive  Villa  of  Sceaux.  But  thereby 
hangs  his  employment;  we  do  not  know  how  far  Mad- 
ame is  involved  in  this  intrigue  with  Spain  and  the  Bre- 
tons." 

Verily  I  felt  encouraged  as  Serigny  unfolded  his 
charming  plans  for  my  entertainment.  In  a  strange  city 
to  hunt  up  and  dispossess  a  man  like  this  of  papers 
which  would  hang  him.  A  delightful  undertaking  for- 
sooth ! 

"But  we  plan  in  advance,  my  dear  Captain.  We 
must  wait  the  pleasure  of  the  King  concerning  you.  We 
will  renew  this  subject  to-morrow." 

That  night  I  lodged  with  Serigny. 


CHAPTER  VI 

LOUIS    XIV 

EVEN  at  this  time  I  remember  how  nervous  I  was 
when  I  dressed  for  my  interview  with  the  King. 
What  it  was  for,  or  how  it  might  result,  I  could  form  no 
idea,  so  I  did  not  trouble  myself  with  vain  thinking. 

Promptly  at  ten  I  presented  myself  at  that  famous  door 
which  led  to  the  room  where  Louis  held  his  morning 
levee.  Already  the  approaches  were  crowded,  and  the 
officer  on  watch  was  busy  examining  passes  and  requests 
for  admission.  Some  there  were  who  passed  haughtily  in 
without  even  so  much  as  a  glance  at  the  guard  or  the 
crowd  which  parted  obsequiously  to  let  them  through. 
Most  probably  favorites  of  the  King,  or  perchance  his 
ministers.  When  he  reached  me  the  officer  of  the 
guard,  noting  my  uniform,  inquired: 

"Captain  de  Mouret  of  Louisiana?" 

"Yes." 

"You  are  to  be  admitted,  sir,"  and  I  found  myself 
ushered  immediately  through  the  opening  ranks  of  Swiss 
mercenaries  into  the  audience  chamber  of  the  King. 

Louis  no  longer  held  his  levees  in  the  great  vaulted 
chamber  into  which  I  was  first  shown,  but  in  a  smaller 
(47) 


48  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

and  more  sombre  room,  that  of  de  Maintenon.  The 
character  and  dress  of  those  present  reflected  with  a 
chameleon's  fidelity  the  change  in  His  Majesty's  habits. 
Madame  sat  near  the  King,  working  upon  a  piece  of 
tapestry  which,  when  she  was  interested  in  what  went 
on,  lay  idle  in  her  lap.  Behind  her  chair  stood  the 
sour-visaged  Jesuit  confessor,  Letellier. 

Death,  which  spared  not  even  the  Bourbon,  had 
taken  away  the  Dauphin  and  his  son;  leaving  as  the 
King's  successor  an  infant  yet  in  his  cradle.  This  em- 
bittered every  thought  of  the  King's  declining  years, 
made  him  gloomy,  petulant  and  querulous.  And  yet 
there  were  many  men  still  about  him  capable  of  uphold- 
ing the  dignity  of  the  throne.  I  heard  announced,  one 
after  the  other,  Grand  Marshal  Villars,  lately  placed  in 
command  of  all  the  armies  of  France;  the  Duke  of 
Savoy,  a  famous  soldier,  but  a  deserter  from  the  En- 
glish ;  the  brothers  de  Noailles,  one  bearing  a  Marshal's 
baton,  the  other,  cold,  cynical,  austere,  robed  in 
churchly  garments,  Archbishop  of  Paris.  There  were 
Villeroi,  de  Tourville,  the  admiral;  and  Marshal  Tal- 
lard — he  who  lost  the  bloody  field  of  Blenheim  to  the 
Englishman  Churchill. 

I  confess  I  was  abashed  at  the  sound  of  so  many 
great  names,  and  advanced  in  hesitating  fashion  across 
the  floor,  to  kneel  before  the  King. 

"Tut,  tut,  Captain  de  Mouret,"  he  said,  kindly, 
"Rise,  we  would  hear  somewhat  from  you  touching 
matters  in  our  Province  of  Louisiana,  and  particularly 
of  their  safety  in  case  of  war — say,  with  Spain." 


LOUIS    XIV  49 

He  then  asked  a  few  questions  about  things  familiar 
to  me,  which  put  me  quite  at  ease.  What  I  said  I  can 
scarce  at  this  time  recollect,  but  I  know  I  spoke  with 
all  a  soldier's  enthusiasm  of  my  beloved  commander,  of 
his  diplomacy  in  peace,  of  his  war-won  successes. 

It  did  not  pass  unnoticed  that  many  a  venomous 
glance  was  shot  towards  me  from  that  little  group  be- 
hind the  King,  but  in  the  King's  presence  I  feared  noth- 
ing, and  spoke  on,  unrestrained. 

Once  a  tall  man  whom  I  took  to  be  Chamillard  in- 
terrupted ;  the  King  motioned  me  to  proceed,  and  I  told 
him  all  the  strength  and  resources  of  the  colonies,  their 
weakness  and  their  needs.  When  I  thought  I  had  fin- 
ished, the  King's  face  hardened,  and  looking  me  straight 
in  the  eye,  he  inquired: 

"What  is  this  I  hear  of  Bienville's  presuming  to  criti- 
cise me — me,  Louis,  his  King — for  contemplating  such 
a  disposition  of  the  colonies  as  suits  my  royal  pleasure? 
Can  you  tell  me  that  as  glibly,  sir?" 

For  the  moment  I  was  astounded  and  had  no  word  to 
say.  I  could  see  a  faint  smile  run  round  the  circle  as 
they  exchanged  glances  of  intelligence.  Serigny  was 
right.  The  spy  had  already  arrived.  His  eavesdrop- 
ping news  had  reached  the  King.  In  my  indignation  I 
forgot  the  man  I  addressed  was  the  Imperial  Louis. 
Defending  my  master  I  spoke  vigorously  the  truth,  and 
that  right  earnestly. 

"Your  Majesty  is  a  soldier,  and  will  forgive  a  soldier's 
blunt  speech.  I  beg  you,  Sire,  to  consider  the  services 
and  the  sorrows  of  Bienville's  people,  the  loyal  le 
4— BLACK  WOLF 


SO  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Moynes.  Where  rests  his  father?  Where  his  valiant 
brothers,  Ste.  Heleneand  Mericourt?  Dead,  and  for  the 
silver  lilies !  Where's  Iberville,  the  courteous,  the 
brave ;  he  who  ravaged  the  frozen  ocean  and  the  tropic 
seas  in  his  royal  master's  name?  Dead,  Sire,  of  the 
pestilence  in  San  Domingo.  Does  the  King  not  re- 
member his  good  ship  Pelican?  Has  the  King  forgot- 
ten Iberville?  Hast  forgotten  thine  own  white  flag 
cruising  on  thine  enemy's  coast,  borne  down  by  four 
vessels  of  superior  weight?  Did  the  Eagle  stretch  her 
wings  to  escape  the  Lion? 

Did  the  Silver  Lilies  flee  before  St.  George's  Cross? 
No,  by  the  deathless  glory  of  the  Bourbon,  no !  And  who 
was  he  that  dared — following  the  example  of  his  King, 
the  Conqueror  of  the  Rhine — who  was  he  that  dared  meet 
such  enemies  and  engage  such  odds?  Whose  was  that 
boyish  face  of  thirty,  waving  his  curls  upon  the  quarter 
deck,  with  the  noble  front  of  a  very  God  of  War?  Iber- 
ville !  Who  is  he  that  brushes  away  a  tear  to  gaze  upon 
his  stripling  brother  beside  the  guns,  soon  to  be  exposed 
by  his  command  to  such  a  fearful  danger?  Iberville, 
again !  Who  is  that  fiery  soldier,  recking  nothing  save 
his  duty,  who  seeth  without  a  tremor  that  beloved 
brother  lying  mangled  at  his  post,  where  the  storms 
of  hell  do  rage,  and  flames  consume  the  dead?  Who, 
when  the  enemy  lay  dismantled,  their  hulks  afire,  their 
colors  struck,  their  best  ships  sunk,  when  the  glo- 
rious standard  of  France  triumphant  dallied  with  the 
breeze — who  is  that  dauntless  gentleman  who  kneels 


LOUIS   XIV  51 

upon  his  battle-riven  but  victorious  deck  and  sobs  aloud 
in  agony  above  his  writhing  brother?  Who  is  this 
stricken  gentleman,  who,  having  won  that  most  heroic 
fight  for  his  King,  now  prints  a  kiss,  as  a  tender  maiden 
might,  upon  the  pale  lips  of  a  dying  lad?  Ah,  Sire, 
it  was  Iberville,  it  was  Iberville,  my  King,  Iberville  the 
gentle,  Iberville  the  true!  Hast  thou  forgotten  that 
wounded  lad  who  lived  to  serve  his  King  so  well  on 
other  fields?  Dost  remember  his  name?  Let  me  re- 
mind you,  Sire,  that  lad  was  Bienville  dela  Chaise,  your 
loyal  governor  of  Louisiana.  Did  the  King  but  know 
the  trials  and  sufferings  of  my  master  in  upholding  the 
royal  authority,  he  would  forgive  him  much.  Nor  do 
I  fear  to  say  it  even  here,  that  those  men  who  seek  his 
downfall  would  as  lief  line  their  wallets  with  Spanish 
doubloons  as  with  honest  Louis  d'or.  De  laVente,  the 
renegade  priest,  the  center  of  strife  and  discontent  in 
the  colonies,  traffics  with  the  Indians  and  brings  oppro- 
brium upon  your  Majesty's  name.  It  is  he  or  la  Salle 
who  sends  this  idle  tale — la  Salle,  who,  from  your 
Majesty's  commissary,  supplies  this  de  laVente  with  his 
merchandise.  Who  their  friends  are  here  to  tell  your 
Majesty  these  tales,  I  care  not.  Saving  the  royal  pres- 
ence, I  would  be  pleased  to  discuss  the  matter  with  them 
elsewhere." 

"Thou  art  a  bold  lad,"  observed  the  King. 

I  had  noted  his  eyes  flash,  and  the  thin  nostrils  dilate 
at  mention  of  the  passage  of  the  Rhine;  so,  emboldened 
by  the  surety  of  success,  I  kept  my  own  courage  up. 

"Aye,  Sire,  truth  need  have  no  fear  from  the  great- 


52  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

est  of  all  the  Bourbons.  Bienville  is  a  soldier,  not 
a  courtier,  and  stung  beyond  endurance  by  the  threat 
of  his  enemies  that  they  would  yet  beguile  your 
Majesty  to  sell  your  fair  Province  of  Louisiana,  and  turn 
the  royal  barracks  into  a  peddler's  shop — mayhap  he 
did  use  some  such  hot  and  thoughtless  expressions  to 
me.  These,  some  spy  may  have  overheard  and  for- 
warded here  to  his  hurt.  If  it  please  you  to  hear  the 
words,  I  will  repeat  them  upon  the  oath  of  an  officer." 

"Go  on,"  he  commanded  drily. 

"Bienville  did  say  it  was  a  matter  of  shame  to  forego 
such  a  broad  domain  wherein  lay  so  much  wealth,  be- 
cause of  present  troubles.  It  is  his  ambition  to  found 
there  a  new  empire  in  the  west,  to  add  a  brighter  glory 
to  the  name  of  Bourbon,  to  plant  the  silver  lilies  upon 
the  remotest  boundaries  of  the  earth,  calling  it  all  Louis- 
iana, a  mighty  continent,  without  a  rival  and  without  a 
frontier.  Ah !  Your  Majesty  has  in  Bienville  a  strong 
heart  and  a  firm  hand,  a  man  who  prefers  to  devote  his 
life  to  your  service,  rather  than  live  at  ease  in  France ; 
a  man  who  carries  more  scars  for  his  King  than  your 
Majesty  has  fingers — poorer  to-day  than  when  he  en- 
tered your  service,  though  others  about  him  have  grown 
rich." 

I  told  him,  too,  without  reserve,  of  the  contemplated 
Indian  attack  in  the  spring,  of  my  own  haste  to  return. 
His  face  lighted  up  with  the  fire  of  his  thought : 

"Then,  by  my  faith,"  he  broke  in,  "you  need  a 
bold,  ambitious  soldier  for  your  Governor.  What  think 
you,  Villars,  Chamillard — gentlemen?" 


LOUIS  xiv  53 

None  dared  oppose  the  King. 

"I  overheard  you,  Captain,  in  the  gardens  yesterday, 
and  think  the  master  who  has  taught  you  such  senti- 
ments is  a  man  the  King  of  France  can  trust.  Convey 
to  the  trusty  and  well  beloved  Governor  of  our  Province 
of  Louisiana  our  renewed  confidence,  with  our  assur- 
ance he  is  not  to  be  disturbed.  We  make  you  our 
royal  messenger  for  the  purpose.' 

Then  he  gravely  inclined  his  head  to  signify  the  inter- 
view was  done. 

As  soon  as  I  decently  could  I  left  the  royal  presence 
and  repaired  at  once  to  Serigny.  I  found  him  still  in 
his  apartments  waiting  me  with  every  appearance  of  in- 
tense impatience.  Almost  as  I  rapped  he  had  opened 
the  door  himself.  The  valet  had  been  dismissed.  My 
face — for  I  was  yet  flushed  with  excitement — told  of  our 
victory.  He  grasped  my  hand  in  both  his  own  and 
asked : 

"We  have  won?     Tell  me,  how  was  it?" 

"Aye,  sir,  and  nobly.  I  have  the  King's  own  war- 
rant that  our  Governor  is  not  to  be  disturbed." 

Every  shade  of  anxiety  vanished,  and  he  laughed  as 
unaffectedly  as  a  girl. 

"Thou  art  a  clever  lad;  but  tell  me  of  it,  tell  me  of 
it!" 

I  told  him  then  of  the  audience,  neglecting  not  the 
minutest  detail,  not  even  the  black  looks  of  those  who 
thronged  about  the  King. 

"Chamillard's  doing,  and   Crozat.     Crozat  the  par- 


54  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

venu — Marquis  du  Chatel,  forsooth,  with  his  scissors 
and  yardstick  for  device." 

He  questioned  me  closely  concerning  the  personages 
present,  and  what  they  said.  After  having  heard  on  to 
the  end  he  was  quite  composed  and  broached  again  the 
subject  of  the  previous  night. 

"Well,  Captain  "  he  commenced,  half  banteringly, 
"if  thou  hast  dortc  thy  conferences  with  the  King,  we 
will  talk  of  your  next  adventure.  Time  presses,  and 
you  see  from  what  Louis  said,  our  enemies  are  already 
at  work." 

I  hearkened  with  many  misgivings,  for  I  felt  of  a 
truth  uncertain  of  myself  in  this  new  character — and 
shall  I  confess  it — a  trifle  ill  at  ease  concerning  this 
bravo,  Carne  Yvard,  the  duelist  of  the  iron  hand,  and 
the  gamester  with  the  luck  of  the  devil.  However,  I 
put  upon  myself  a  steadfast  front  and  listened. 

"We  have  a  fine  lad  at  Paris  in  our  service,"  said 
Serigny,  "and  with  him  four  as  staunch  fellows  as  ever 
dodged  a  halter.  De  Greville — Jerome  de  Greville — 
has  his  lodgings  in  Rue  St.  Denis,  at  the  sign  of  the 
Austrian  Arms.  The  host  is  a  surly,  close-mouthed 
churl  who  will  give  you  little  information  until  he  knows 
you  well.  Then  you  may  rely  upon  him.  Jerome  has 
been  watching  our  quarry  these  many  weeks ;  we  hold 
him  in  easy  reach,  as  a  bait  to  catch  his  accomplice. 
Then  we  will  put  them  both  where  they  can  spy  upon 
us  no  longer.  I  desire  them  to  be  taken  alive  if  possi- 
ble, and  by  all  the  gods,  they  shall  hang." 

Verily,  this  was  a  pleasant  adventure  for  me  to  con- 


LOUIS  xiv  55 

template,  taking  alive  such  a  desperado,  who  handled 
his  sword  like  a  hell-born  imp. 

"I  would  not  expose  you  to  this,"  continued  Se- 
rigny,  "but  for  the  stern  necessity  that  those  papers 
should  reach  me  unopened.  They  are  to  be  delivered 
to  you,  and  I  hold  you  responsible.  You  understand?" 

I  bowed  my  acquiescence. 

Then  he  went  on,  talking  more  at  ease,  though  I  was 
far  from  placid  at  the  prospect.  He  told  me  of  the  dif- 
ferent streets,  the  lay  of  the  town,  and  the  various  men 
with  whom  I  would  be  thrown. 

"Beyond  all,"  and  in  this  I  aftenvard  acknowledged 
his  foresight,  "do  not  neglect  the  women,  for  their 
hands  now  wield  the  real  power  in  France.' 

I  must  own  I  thought  more  on  the  nature  of  my  new 
errand  than  on  what  he  was  saying.  I  felt  no  small  de- 
gree of  distrust,  yet,  for  my  honor's  sake,  kept  it  to 
myself. 

"And  when  shall  I  set  out  for  Paris?"   I  asked. 

"To-day;  at  once.  Le  Dauphin  has  already  lain 
four  days  at  anchorage,  and  we  know  for  a  surety  that 
the  expected  spy  has  come.  We  can  not  act  too 
promptly." 

And  so  it  came  about  that  I  left  within  the  hour. 

A  carriage  had  been  made  ready,  and  I  bade  Serigny 
good-bye  in  his  own  rooms.  He  feared  our  being  seen 
together  too  frequently  about  the  palace. 

"But  one  other  thing,  my  lad,"  he  stopped  me  as  I 
would  go,  "you  must  need  have  other  garb  than  that. 
Your  harness  of  the  wilderness  but  ill  befits  a  gay 


56  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

gallant  in  Paris — for  such  you  must  now  appear.  You 
visit  the  capital  to  see  the  sights,  understand;  a  coun- 
try gentleman — Greville  will  instruct  you,  the  rascal  has 
naturally  a  turn  for  intrigue  and  masquerading.  A 
dress  like  yours  would  mark  you  apart  from  the  throng 
and  perchance  draw  upon  you  the  scathe  of  idle  tongue. 
Here  is  gold  to  array  yourself  as  becomes  a  well-to-do 
gentleman,  and  gold  to  spend  at  wine  and  on  the  games 
withal — for,  thank  Providence,  the  ancient  House  of 
Lemoyne  is  not  yet  bankrupt." 

I  fain  would  not  take  his  proffered  coins,  but  he 
urged  them  upon  me  with  such  insistency  that  I,  seeing 
the  good  sense  of  doing  as  I  was  bid,  placed  them  in  my 
meager  purse,  and  with  a  light  heart  I  set  out  upon  my 
doubtful  journey. 

The  fear  of  which  I  spoke  died  away,  for  since  our 

success  with  the  King,  my  spirits  rose,  and  I  deemed 

all  things  possible.     Besides,  was  I  not  in  the  personal 

service  of  my  beloved  commander  who  never  knew  a  fear? 

#          *         *         * 

The  postilion  whipped  up  his  horses,  and  we  turned 
towards  the  old  city  of  Paris,  that  treasure-house  of 
varied  fortunes  whence  every  man  might  draw  his  lot — 
of  poverty  or  riches,  of  fame  or  obscurity,  of  happiness 
or  misery — as  chance  and  strength  directs. 


CHAPTER  VII 

AT  THE  AUSTRIAN  ARMS 

IT  was  w*jll  Into  the  night  when  the  first  dim  lights  of 
Paris  came  into  view,  and  perhaps  some  two  good 
hours    afterwards   before   we   drew   up  in  front  of  the 
"Austrian  Arms." 

It  was  not  a  new  or  prepossessing  place,  yet  much 
better  than  those  I  had  seen  along  the  road  from  Dieppe. 

The  host  well  deserved  Serigny's  appellation  of  a 
churl,  for  he  looked  suspiciously  at  me,  and  when 
I  asked  for  de  Greville  replied  he  knew  nothing  of 
him.  I  could  get  no  satisfaction  from  him,  so  I  deter- 
mined to  take  up  my  abode  and  wait.  In  I  went  and 
heeded  not  the  surly  host  who  regarded  me  askance. 

The  small  public  room  was  vacant,  and  I  possessed 
myself  of  it  with  the  settled  air  of  a  man  who  has  come 
to  stay.  Verily  the  fire  felt  most  grateful,  and  it  did 
me  much  comfort  to  stretch  as  I  listed,  after  the  tedi- 
ous confinement  of  the  coach.  Mine  host  busied  him- 
self about  mending  the  fire,  but  whenever  I  raised  my 
eyes  I  caught  his  gaze  fixed  doubtingly  upon  me.  Ev- 
idently the  man  knew  more  than  he  told,  and  I  planned 
to  test  his  loyalty. 

(57) 


58  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Here,  my  good  man,"  I  called  to  him,  "dost  know 
anything  of  this  Jerome  de  Greville?  Where  is  he?" 

"By  our  Lady,  noble  sir,  I  know  him  not.  Paris  is  a 
great  city,  and  many  noble  gentlemen  come  and  go  at 
their  will." 

"But  M.  de  Greville  lodges  with  you,  I  am  told.  My 
business  is  urgent." 

"I  do  not  recall  such  a  name?  Jerome  de  Greville?" 
and  the  rascal  turned  his  eyes  to  the  ceiling  in  the  atti- 
tude of  deep  contemplation.  I  smiled  inwardly. 

"If  it  please  you,  sir,  to  write  your  name  in  my  guest 
book,  should  Monsieur  de  Greville  call  I  will  show  it 
him.  You  may  tell  me  where  you  can  be  found." 

He  fetched  out  a  worn  and  greasy  book  from  a  chest 
in  the  rear,  and  handed  me  a  pen,  watching,  as  I 
thought,  with  some  interest,  what  name  I  would  write, 
though  I  much  questioned  if  he  could  read  it.  I  pushed 
the  book  aside. 

"Oh,  it  matters  not,  my  name;  it  is  an  obscure  one, 
and  M.  de  Greville  would  not  recall  it.  See  here  my 
good  fellow,  here  is  a  gold  piece  to  aid  thy  memory. 
At  what  hour  will  M.  de  Greville  return?" 

He  took  the  coin,  and  turning  it  over  and  over  in  his 
palm,  said,  as  if  to  it: 

"If  Monsieur  will  write  a  note  and  leave  it,  I  will 
send  to  other  inns  and  see  if  such  a  man  be  in  Paris. 
Monsieur  is  of  Gascony?"  he  ventured. 

The  Gascons  were  at  this  time  regarded  with  distrust, 
it  was  such  an  easy  matter  for  them  to  carry  news  into 
Spain,  being  on  the  border. 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  59 

I  soon  found  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  from  the 
fellow,  and  becoming  convinced  of  his  steadfastness  was 
willing  he  should  keep  the  coin  as  earnest  money  for 
future  services.  De  Greville  not  coming  in,  I  grew 
restive,  and  concluded  I  would  stroll  about  the  city. 
Claude,  for  so  the  landlord  styled  himself,  directed  me 
to  the  principal  thoroughfare,  and  I  thought  by  walking 
straight  along  one  street  I  could  easily  return.  There 
was  nothing  unusual  in  the  neighboring  buildings  to 
make  a  landmark  of,  so  I  chose  a  great  round  tower 
not  far  away,  and  carefully  laid  my  bearings  from  that. 

The  landlord  watched  me  taking  my  observations  and 
felt  sure  I  would  shortly  return ;  the  more  so  that  my 
few  articles  of  apparel  and  necessity  were  left  stowed  in 
the  corner  by  his  hearth.  These  I  had  purposely  so  ar- 
ranged that  I  could  detect  any  meddling.  Throwing 
my  cloak  about  me  I  took  the  way  he  indicated,  and 
soon  passed  into  a  wider  and  more  handsome  street, 
which  I  came  afterward  to  know.  Walking  idly  on, 
without  thought  of  distance  or  direction,  I  tired  after  a 
while,  and  began  to  think  of  getting  back  to  the  inn  fire- 
side. I  retraced  my  steps  perfectly,  I  thought,  and  if 
my  calculations  were  right  should  have  stood  where  the 
broad,  well-lighted  street  I  had  traversed  corners  on  Rue 
St.  Denis.  But  the  locality  was  entirely  strange,  and  I  had 
lost  sight  of  the  great  tower  which  I  thought  would  guide 
me  home,  when  a  squad  of  the  watch  halted  me  and 
questioned  my  errand. 

"I  am  a  gentleman,  and  officer  of  the  King,"  I  re- 
plied with  such  an  air  they  passed  on. 


6O  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"I  pray  you,  gentlemen,  direct  me  to  the  Rue  St. 
Denis,  thence  I  can  find  my  way." 

The  man  gave  me  directions  which  simply  confused 
me,  and,  ashamed  to  confess  my  ignorance,  I  blundered 
on  to  where  five  or  six  narrow,  crooked  streets  ran  to- 
gether, branching  out  like  the  fingers  from  my  palm.  I 
paused  now  uncertain  which  way  to  go  amid  so  many 
devious  courses,  and  deciding  almost  at  hazard,  turned 
down  the  best  paved  of  all  those  dingy  streets.  I  had 
hardly  gone  past  more  than  two  cross  streets,  when 
there  stood  at  a  corner,  looking  timidly  this  way  and  that, 
a  slight  girl,  with  blonde  hair  and  eyes  of  Breton  blue. 
She  seemed  so  brave,  yet  so  out  of  place  and  helpless 
at  that  hour  of  the  night,  on  such  an  unfrequented  road, 
I  almost  made  so  bold  as  to  address  her,  thinking  I 
might  be  of  service  to  a  lady  in  distress.  But  my  tongue 
was  not  formed  for  such  well  chosen  words  and  polite 
phrases,  so  I  merely  held  to  one  side,  she  standing  to 
the  outer  edge  to  admit  of  my  passage. 

At  the  moment  I  got  opposite  her,  it  seems  she  had 
misjudged  the  width  of  the  pavement,  for  I  heard  her 
give  a  slight  ejaculation,  and  one  foot  slipped  off  the 
paved  way  as  if  she  would  fall  into  the  muddy  street.  I 
passed  my  arm  quickly  about  her,  and  raised  her  to  a 
place  of  safety,  but  even  then  could  bring  no  word  of 
courtly  elegance  to  my  assistance. 

She  thanked  me  prettily  and  daintily,  and  as  I  pur- 
sued my  course,  I  could  but  turn  and  give  yet 
another  glance  in  her  direction.  She  caught  my  eye, 
and  again  looking  each  way,  bent  her  steps  down  a  by- 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  6 1 

way  leading  off  to  the  left,  which  we  were  that  instant 
nearest.  There  was  that  in  her  manner,  I  could  not  say 
exactly  what,  which  led  me  to  follow  her  at  a  respectful 
distance,  seeing  which  she  turned  her  head,  and  I  fancied 
I  could  observe  a  thankful  little  smile  playing  about  her 
lips.  At  any  rate  she  quickened  her  pace  and  walked 
with  more  assurance,  no  longer  in  doubt  about  her 
movements. 

For  many  rods  at  times  she  would  be  lost  to  view  in 
the  dark,  and  her  tread  was  so  light  it  scarcely  made 
a  sound — or  the  great,  clumsy  clattering  I  created 
drowned  it  entirely.  Just  at  the  time  I  thought  I  had 
lost  her,  I  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  flitting  skirt  beneath 
one  of  the  flambeaux,  which,  stuck  in  niches  of  the  wall 
here  and  there,  lighted  old  Paris. 

In  a  very  pleasant  frame  of  mind,  I  strode  along  be- 
hind her.  It  was  wonderful,  I  thought,  how  readily  a 
woman's  intuition  recognizes  a  protector.  And  I — 
for  I  must  admit  I  was  young  then;  in  the  ways  of 
women,  far  younger  than  my  years — I  amused  myself 
with  many  conjectures  concerning  what  manner  of  errand 
had  taken  this  young  woman  abroad  alone  on  such  a 
night.  A  lady  she  plainly  seemed.  Disguised  a  little, 
that  might  be,  for  her  quiet  dignity  did  not  fully  com- 
port with  the  style  of  her  dress. 

A  thousand  airy  castles  I  built  for  my  fair  heroine  to 
live  in,  and  I,  like  the  knightly  heroes  of  the  Crusades, 
was  ever  her  defender,  ever  her  champion  in  the  lists. 

Busied  with  these  fancies  and  romantic  thoughts,  I 
lost  count  of  streets  and  passages,  turning  this  way, 


62  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

that  and  the  other,  through  many  narrow  and  tortu- 
ous byways  and  alleys,  until  I  realized  I  was  hopelessly 
lost.  With  my  fair  guide  in  front  and  my  good  sword 
by  my  side,  lightly  I  recked  of  streets  or  houses.  Yet 
I  dared  not  forget  I  was  on  an  errand  for  the  Governor 
and  must  not  expose  myself  to  bootless  peril. 

At  last,  and  somewhat  to  my  relief,  she  stopped  be- 
fore a  great  oaken  iron-studded  gate,  possibly  of  five 
good  paces  width,  in  one  corner  of  which  was  cut  a 
smaller  door  so  low  a  man  must  stoop  to  pass.  Upon 
this  smaller  door  she  rapped  and  stood  in  the  attitude 
of  waiting. 

I  had  a  moment  now  to  look  about  me.  It  was  in  a 
quarter  of  the  town  that  was  forbidding.  Here  were 
two  huge,  dismal,  gray-stone  mansions,  separated  by  a 
court-yard  of  probably  forty  paces  across ;  a  high  wall 
fronted  the  street,  flanked  by  a  tower  on  either  side 
the  gate.  On  top,  this  wall  was  defended  by  bits  of 
broken  glass  and  spikes  of  steel,  stuck  into  the  ma- 
sonry while  it  was  yet  soft.  More  than  this  the  flicker- 
ing brazier  would  not  permit  me  to  see.  All  of  this  I 
took  in  at  a  glance ;  across  the  street  the  murkiness  of 
the  night  shut  out  my  view.  She  rapped  again,  impa- 
tiently, but  in  the  same  manner  as  before.  A  trifling 
space  thereafter  the  smaller  door  was  opened,  whoever 
was  inside  having  first  peeped  out  through  a  round  hole, 
which  closed  itself  with  a  shutter  no  bigger  than  his  eye. 

The  lady  looked  first  to  me,  then  stepped  inside  and 
stood  back  as  if  she  bade  me  enter. 

This   was   an   adventure  I  had   not  bargained   for. 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  63 

Thinking  only  to  see  that  the  lady  reached  her  destina- 
tion in  safety,  here  was  a  complication  of  which  I  had 
never  dreamed.  What  her  singular  errand  was,  or 
wherein  she  desired  my  assistance,  I  could  not  even 
hazard  a  guess.  Yet  there  she  stood  and  beckoned  me 
to  enter,  and  I  moved  forward  a  pace  or  two  so  I  could 
see  within  the  door. 

The  concierge  held  the  door  ajar,  and  a  more  repul- 
sive, deformed  wretch  I  never  laid  eyes  upon.  His  left 
arm  hung  withered  by  his  side ;  at  his  girdle  he  swung 
a  bunch  of  keys,  with  any  one  of  which  a  strong  man 
might  have  brained  an  ox.  Every  evil  passion  which 
curses  the  race  of  men  had  left  its  imprint  upon  his  low- 
ering countenance.  Yet  for  a  moment,  when  his  gaze 
rested  upon  the  girl,  it  was  as  though  some  spark  of  her 
loveliness  drove  the  villainy  from  his  face.  He  was 
hardly  so  tall  as  she  who  stood  beside  him  watching  me, 
the  semblance  of  a  mocking  sneer  about  her  lips.  Look- 
ing past  them  both  I  could  see  what  manner  of  place  it 
was.  A  smoky  oil-lamp  sputtered  in  the  rear,  suffi- 
ciently distinct  to  disclose  the  paved  court-yard,  cov- 
ered with  the  green  slime  which  marks  the  place  where 
no  sun  ever  shines.  Further  than  this  I  could  see  noth- 
ing except  the  tall  gray  buildings  which  shut  in  every 
side  and  this  wall  in  front.  That  door  once  locked 
upon  the  intruder  there  would  be  no  easy  egress.  In- 
stinctively I  held  back 

"Monsieur  is  afraid?"  she  inquired,  then  tossed  back 
her  head,  and  laughed  such  a  low,  disdainful,  mean 
laugh,  as  fired  my  every  nerve  to  hear.  I  hesitated  no 


64  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

longer.  Let  come  what  will,  let  the  Governor's  errand 
look  to  itself,  for  no  man  or  no  woman  could  ever  laugh 
at  me  like  that. 

Holding  my  blade  at  easy  command,  I  stepped  in- 
side. Immediately  the  door  closed,  and  the  rasping  of 
the  key  told  me  it  was  securely  locked  as  before. 
Then  came  regret,  but  came  too  late.  What  I  had 
so  foolishly  commenced,  I  must  now  see  finished.  The 
cup  had  been  taken  in  hand  and  the  dice  must  be 
thrown. 

As  we  came,  I  followed  her  again,  though  at  much 
closer  range.  We  crossed  the  yard  diagonally,  across 
the  broken  panes,  bits  of  casks,  wine  bottles  and  other 
refuse  scattered  about.  I  liked  not  the  aspect  of  the 
place.  As  the  girl  was  about  to  enter  a  door  leading 
inside  the  building,  a  man  came  down  the  inner  stairs 
and  passed  out,  coming  in  our  direction.  For  the  mo- 
ment he  was  under  the  light  I  had  good  sight  of  him. 

A  rather  low,  dark  fellow,  dressed  in  the  height  of 
the  fashion,  yet  somewhat  flashily  withal ;  not  too  fop- 
pish, he  was  evidently  a  young  gallant  of  the  better 
class.  He  staggered  somewhat  from  wine,  and  carried 
a  magnificent  breadth  of  shoulder,  denoting  considerable 
strength.  This  was  my  mental  catalogue  from  the 
glimpse  I  caught. 

By  this  time,  the  lady  had  got  rather  within  the 
range  of  the  light;  the  man  came  straight  at  her,  and, 
to  my  amazement,  despite  her  struggles,  seized  and 
kissed  her.  This  was  before  I  could  reach  them. 

I  was  upon  him  in  an  instant.     Another,  and  he  had 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  65 

reeled  back  against  the  wall,  drawing  his  weapon  as  he 
fell.  He  recovered  his  feet,  my  blade  met  his,  yet  each 
paused,  well  knowing  the  deadly  lottery  of  such  a  duel 
in  the  dark. 

The  lady  ran  up  as  nearly  between  us  as  she  dared, 
and  besought: 

"Oh,  Messires,  Messires,"  she  plucked  me  by  the 
sleeve,  "do  not  fight;  there  is  no  need  of  it." 

"Get  out  of  the  way  you  impudent  hussy,"  he  com- 
manded, "I'll  kill  your  meddling  lover,  like  the  varlet 
hound  he  is." 

I  went  at  him  in  earnest.  His  further  insult  to  her 
made  every  muscle  a  cord  of  steel.  I  soon  found  this  no 
mere  sport,  for  the  fellow  was  a  thorough  master  of  his 
weapon.  I  was  a  trifle  the  taller  and  had  a  longer  reach ; 
this,  with  my  heavier  blade,  gave  me  well  the  vantage. 
Besides  I  had  touched  no  wine,  and  my  nerves  were 
steady. 

However,  I  had  the  light  full  in  my  face,  and  he  was 
not  slow  to  see  the  annoyance  it  caused  me.  I  knew  I 
could  not  maintain  such  a  fight  for  long,  so  I  pressed 
him  sternly  and  the  bright  sparks  flew.  Backwards, 
step  by  step  he  retreated,  until  he  had  almost  reached 
the  door  out  of  which  he  came.  I  durst  not  withdraw 
my  eyes  from  his,  yet  I  had  seen  the  lady  run  swiftly  up 
the  inner  stairs,  whether  for  help  or  for  other  assassins 
I  could  not  guess. 

Still  back,  ever  pressing  him  desperately  back,  the 
fight  went,  and  he  stood  again  inside  the  door,  at  the 
very  foot  of  the  stair.  Now  every  advantage  was  mine, 
5— BLACK  WOLF 


66  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

for  he  was  well  within  the  glow  of  the  lamp,  every  move- 
ment distinctly  visible,  while  I  yet  stood  in  darkness. 

"For  the  sake  of  mercy,  my  lord,  come  quick."  It 
was  the  girl's  voice  at  the  head  of  the  stairs;  "there 
they  are.  They  will  desist  if  you  command  it."  And 
I  heard  the  heavy  tread  of  two  men  coming  down  the 
stairs,  a  lighter  step  behind  them.  My  foot  touched 
something  which  lay  in  the  dense  shadow  of  the  door- 
step. It  felt  soft,  a  package  of  some  kind.  Then  I  re- 
member seeing  something  fall  from  the  cloak  of  my  ad- 
versary forgotten  in  the  heat  of  the  fray.  I  placed  my 
foot  upon  it. 

"What  quarrel  is  this,  gentlemen?  Put  by  your 
swords?" 

The  voice  was  that  of  a  man  accustomed  to  obedi- 
ence. My  antagonist  stood  entirely  upon  the  defensive ; 
I  stepped  back  a  pace  and  we  rested  at  ease.  He 
leaned  heavily  against  the  balustrade ;  his  breath  came 
hard ;  I  could  see  he  was  nearly  spent,  so  furious  had 
been  our  short  contest.  His  face  showed,  besides,  the 
flush  of  too  much  wine,  or  perchance  I  had  not  been  so 
fortunate. 

"What  mean  you,  gentlemen?     Your  quarrel?" 

"I  did  but  kiss  the  wench,  and  this  fellow  set  upon 
me  in  the  dark." 

"Aye,  my  lord,"  I  replied  stoutly,  according  to  the 
stranger  the  respect  he  seemed  to  command.  "A  wan- 
ton insult  to  this  lady  whom  I  met  unprotected  in  the 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  6/ 

streets,  and  saw  her  safely  to  her  gate.  Who  she  is,  or 
what,  I  know  not." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other,  from  the  girl  to 
me,  then  burst  into  such  peals  of  incredulous  laughter 
as  roused  my  anger  again.  Even  my  late  foe  joined  in, 
but  faintly. 

"Would  either  of  you,  my  lords,  be  pleased  to  take 
the  matter  up?"  for  I  was  hot  now  indeed. 

But  they  only  laughed  the  more.  The  lady  looked 
much  confused. 

"Thou  art  not  of  Paris?"  the  taller  man  asked. 

"No,  this  is  my  first  night  in  Paris." 

"I  thought  as  much.  This  lady,"  the  tall  man  con- 
tinued in  a  sarcastic  tone,  "permit  me  to  present  you  to 
Mademoiselle  Florine,  waitress  and  decoy  pigeon  for 
Betrand's  wine  rooms,  where  gentlemen  sometimes  play 
at  dice." 

He  laughed  again,  and  even  the  girl  could  muster 
up  a  smile  now  that  the  danger  had  blown  over. 

"That  is  true,  Mademoiselle?"  I  asked.    She  nodded. 

"Then,  good  sirs,  I'll  fight  no  more  in  such  a  matter. ' ' 

"And  by  my  soul,  comrade,  right  glad  I  am  to  hear 
you  say  it;  for  you  fight  like  a  very  devil  of  hell,  and 
Carne  Yvard  knows  a  swordsman." 

Carne  Yvard  !  The  very  fellow  I  had  been  sent  out  to 
find,  now  by  a  queer  chance  thrown  full  in  my  way. 
Verily,  I  was  relieved  to  know  I  could  hold  my  own 
against  this  famous — or  infamous — bravo.  Another 
thing  gained ;  I  knew  my  man  while  yet  a  stranger  to 


68  THE  BLACK   WOLF*S   BREED 

him.  And  further,  I  stumbled  on  the  very  place  which 
of  all  others  I  desired  to  find.  Truly  the  chance  was  odd. 

The  two  gentlemen  upon  the  stair  had  not  yet 
staunched  their  merriment,  while  these  thoughts  coming 
so  unexpectedly  had  swept  from  me  every  recollection 
of  the  fight. 

"Thou  art  not  of  Paris?"  the  spokesman  asked  again. 

I  heard  him  as  a  man  hears  something  afar  off,  for 
my  foot  resting  upon  the  package  which  had  been 
dropped,  sent  my  mind  a  wandering  again.  Could  it  be 
that  this  was  a  paper  of  importance,  or  possibly  the  very 
one  I  desired?  Why  not?  I  resolved  to  possess  it  at 
every  hazard.  Yet  were  I  to  stoop  and  pick  it  up  now, 
and  they  saw  me,  I  knew  of  no  means  by  which  I  might 
leave  the  place  in  safety.  So  I  carelessly  shoved  it  with 
my  foot  farther  into  the  shadow  of  the  step.  I  answered 
the  question  asked  me  so  long  before. 

"No,  my  lord,  the  city  is  a  strange  one  to  me." 

"Of  what  place,  did  you  say?" 

Now  I  had  purposely  refrained  from  saying,  and  did 
not  know  what  reply  to  give.  I  hated  to  appear  boor- 
ish, besides  it  would  not  serve  my  purpose.  My  father 
being  of  Normandy,  I  deemed  I  would  have  nearly  the 
accent  of  those  people,  so  I  made  a  venture  to  say: 

"Of  Normandy,  sir,"  in  such  a  way  he  did  not  pur- 
sue the  subject  further. 

"We  thought  you  no  Parisian,  or  this  lady  would  not 
have  made  so  easy  a  conquest,"  and  they  laughed  again. 

"Do  you  play?"  he  queried. 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  69 

"But  rarely,  my  lord,"  the  fact  was  I  knew  little  of 
the  dice. 

They  put  about  and  ascended  the  stair,  the  two  to- 
gether, then  Yvard,  I  coming  on  behind,  but  not  until 
the  packet,  from  which  I  hoped  so  much,  was  safely  in 
my  bosom.  This  was  easily  accomplished  when  Yvard 
had  turned  his  back. 

We  climbed  the  stair,  and  after  some  forty  or  fifty 
paces  stood  inside  the  room  of  which  Serigny  had  spoken 
to  me.  I  could  recognize  the  place  from  his  descrip- 
tion. 

The  gaming  tables  were  ranged  about  in  the  center  of 
the  room,  and  about  them  sat  many  men — and  women, 
too — at  play.  On  three  sides  of  the  place  a  row  of  col- 
umns ran  some  four  or  five  yards  from  the  wall.  These 
pillars  formed  convenient  alcoves  for  those  who  would 
sit  and  sip  their  wine.  Some  were  curtained,  the  bet- 
ter to  screen  their  occupants.  Others  stood  broadly 
open. 

The  four  of  us  walked  over  to  a  table  well  out  of  view 
and  sat  down  to  wine.  It  was  then  I  regretted  not  hav- 
ing already  heeded  Serigny's  admonition  to  provide 
myself  with  garments  more  suited  to  my  character,  for 
I  felt  I  attracted  some  attention  as  we  passed  through 
the  room,  and  this  was  most  to  be  avoided. 

We  seated  ourselves  about  the  table  and  ordered  wine ; 
mine  remained  untasted  while  the  others  drank.  I  de- 
termined to  touch  no  wine  that  night. 

"Comrade,  you  do  not  drink,"  Yvard  remarked,  "is 
your  blood  still  hot  with  the  clash  of  steel?" 


70  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"No,  by  my  honor,  that  is  long  forgotten;  it  is  my 
oath,  an  oath,  too,  that  can  not  be  broken." 

"Ah,  to  a  lady?" 

I  nodded,  and  he  smiled. 

We  talked  indifferent  gossip,  and  after  awhile  the 
Spanish  troubles  were  mentioned ;  I  think  the  tall  man 
first  spoke  of  it.  Somehow  I  felt  Yvard's  carelessness 
to  be  assumed,  and  that  he  very  much  desired  to  hear 
what  these  two  gentlemen  would  say  on  a  matter  so  im- 
portant. His  manner  made  it  plain  to  me  he  knew  the 
two  gentlemen,  and  also  that  they  were  men  of  rank. 
However,  they  were  quite  discreet ;  while  they  talked 
much,  yet  they  said  nothing  which  was  not  common 
talk  on  the  streets.  After  a  bit  they  arose  to  leave,  and 
I  was  sorely  perplexed  whether  it  were  better  that  I  de- 
part with  them,  now  that  papers  which  might  be  valu- 
able rested  safely  against  my  breast,  or  had  I  better 
stay  and  endeavor  to  learn  more  from  Yvard,  who  was 
beginning  to  drink  heavily.  Perhaps  a  little  more  liquor 
might  loosen  his  tongue,  and  I  might  even  capture  him 
or  his  confederate.  Discretion  would  have  taken  me 
away,  for  that  these  two  gentlemen  were  powerful 
enough  to  protect  me  in  case  of  trouble  in  the  house  I 
did  not  doubt.  The  bearing  of  the  elder  man  espe- 
cially was  such  as  to  inspire  confidence. 

The  adventure,  though,  was  too  enticing,  and  the  hot- 
ter counsels  of  youth  prevailed.  I  bade  the  gentlemen 
goodnight,  and  remained  sitting  at  table  with  Yvard. 
It  was  but  a  few  moments  before  I  regretted  my  unwise 
decision. 


AT   THE   AUSTRIAN   ARMS  7  I 

Yvard  leaned  forward,  the  edge  of  the  table  pressing 
against  his  breast,  and  in  so  doing  noticed  the  absence 
of  the  paper  which  he  had  forgotten  in  the  fight.  His 
face  changed  instantly,  the  drunken  leer  vanished.  At 
first  there  was  merely  a  puzzled  expression,  as  of  an  in- 
tense effort  to  remember.  He  looked  swiftly  at  me.  I 
gave  no  sign.  The  two  men  were  gone.  His  anxiety 
convinced  me  of  the  importance  of  the  papers.  He 
thought  for  a  moment,  then  excused  himself  and  went 
out  the  way  we  came.  As  he  passed  through  the  room, 
I  saw  him  stoop  and  whisper  a  word  to  one  of  the  men 
at  the  dice  table.  In  a  minute  the  fellow  shifted  his 
seat,  and  though  he  continued  to  play,  he  had  taken  a 
position  where,  as  I  imagined,  he  could  watch  me 
that  I  did  not  leave.  I  became  uneasy  now,  for  I  could 
not  tell  how  many  there  were,  and  my  principal  thought 
was  how  to  get  out  of  the  house.  Assuredly  not  by  the 
way  I  entered. 

Looking  about  more  carefully  to  note  the  different 
means  of  egress,  my  attention  was  attracted  by  a  carven 
shield  above  the  main  door.  The  arms  were  the  same 
as  those  graven  on  the  locket  shown  me  by  Colonel 
d'Ortez  the  night  I  left  Biloxi.  There,  standing  out 
boldly  above  the  door,  was  the  same  sable  wolf,  the 
crest  of  the  d'Artins.  For  a  moment  his  story  filled  my 
mind  again ;  but  I  had  no  time  then  for  such  reflections, 
and  dismissed  them  to  a  future  period  of  leisure.  The 
question  how  to  leave  the  house  on  that  particular  night 
gave  me  infinitely  more  concern  than  the  idle  specula- 
tion as  to  who  had  probably  owned  it  long  years  before. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

A  NEW  FRIEND 

I  RAPPED  on  the  table,  called  a  waitress,  and  ordered 
a   bottle  of  light  wine,  which   I    knew  would  not 
hurt  me. 

"Send  for  Mademosielle  Florine,"  and  before  many 
seconds  were  gone  that  lady  presented  herself,  and 
perched  upon  the  edge  of  the  table  where  I  sat.  Her 
humor  was  gay,  her  laugh  was  keen;  she  smiled  and 
asked,  "Has  Monsieur  forgiven?"  with  such  a  penitent 
little  look  I  bade  her  be  at  ease. 

"Mademosielle,  sit  down,  I  pray  you,"  and  she  saw 
by  my  serious  face  I  was  in  no  mood  for  chaffing,  so  she 
seated  herself  with  a  pretty  air  of  attention.  I  could  see 
the  fellow  at  the  dice  watching,  but  now  he  appeared 
quite  satisfied  I  intended  to  stay  and  drink  with  the  girl. 
She  was  evidently  a  great  favorite  with  the  habitues  of 
the  place.  He  looked  at  me  less  frequently  than  at  the 
door,  and  I  guessed  he  expected  Yvard's  return. 

Now  I  grew  certain.  Yvard  had  merely  gone  down 
the  stair  to  see  if  he  had  dropped  the  papers  in  the 
fight.  As  soon  as  he  found  they  were  not  there  I  felt 
morally  certain  he  would  come  and  demand  them  of  me. 
I  had  begun  the  game,  and  must  play  out  the  hand.  So 
(72) 


A   NEW   FRIEND  73 

I  reached  across  the  table,  filled  the  glasses  for  myself 
and  Florine,  raising  mine  high  as  if  I  would  propose  a 
toast.  I  tapped  her  banteringly  on  the  cheek,  for  the 
benefit  of  him  who  watched,  and  said  in  a  low  tone,  try- 
ing to  maintain  my  nonchalant  manner. 

"Listen  to  me  a  minute,  and  I  beseech  you  smile,  do 
not  look  so  serious.  You  brought  me  here,  and  now  I 
trust  you  to  get  me  out  alive.  Is  there  any  other  way 
than  that  I  came?" 

She  looked  about  her  apprehensively,  so  I  cautioned 
her  again. 

"For  heaven's  sake  smile;  I  am  closely  watched, 
and  you  must  laugh  and  be  merry  as  if  I  drank  with  you 
and  made  love." 

She  comprehended,  and  well  did  she  play  her  part. 
The  tones  of  her  voice  were  light  and  playful;  she 
lifted  the  glass  to  her  lips,  tasting  as  a  connoisseur,  and 
said  between  her  sips : 

"Yes,  Monsieur,  there  is — another  way  leading  out — 
on  an  alley — in  the  rear." 

"How  do  you  reach  it?" 

"The  door  behind  the  table — where  they  play  for 
highest  stakes — leads  to  the  passage.  Do  but  cast— 
your  eyes  that  way — and  you  will  see." 

"Then  let  us—" 

"Wait,  Monsieur,  not  yet.  If  Monsieur  would  go 
and  seat  himself  at  that  table,  as  if  he  desired  to  play, 
I  will  slip  around  and  make  ready  the  door  for  him. 
Monsieur  was  kind  to  me,  and  Florine  is  grateful.  Even 
we  women  here  respect  a  gentleman." 


74  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

I  pitied  the  woman  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart.  I 
took  out  my  purse,  paid  the  reckoning,  and  together 
we  wandered  aimlessly  toward  that  table,  laughing  and 
looking  on  at  the  various  games.  The  fellow  watched 
us  as  we  went,  but  was  pleased,  and  seemed  satisfied 
the  woman  but  carried  out  the  purposes  of  her  employ- 
ment. 

I  took  a  seat  at  the  table,  laid  a  wager  or  two  and 
made  myself  intent  upon  the  game.  Florine  stood  be- 
hind my  chair  for  awhile,  watched  my  play,  then  dis- 
appeared. After  a  little  she  returned  and  again  took 
her  place  behind  me.  Directly  she  laughed  out  mer- 
rily, and  in  a  tone  loud  enough  to  be  heard  by  the  man 
who  listened  as  well  as  watched,  cried: 

"Monsieur  plays  the  stakes  too  low.  Fortune  favors 
the  brave,"  and  reaching  over  she  took  several  gold 
pieces  from  my  store,  laid  them  out  and  leaned  close 
beside  me  to  watch  the  throw.  In  this  position  she 
whispered  : 

"I  have  the  key  to  the  outer  door.  The  inner  door 
will  be  unlocked.  Monsieur  will  play  twice  more,  and 
by  that  time  I  will  be  in  the  passage.  Arise,  and  when 
you  lay  your  hand  upon  the  door  I  will  open  it  from  the 
other  side."  I  lost  the  throw. 

"Double  the  wager,  and  better  luck  next  time,"  she 
laughed  as  she  moved  off,  and  joking  lightly  to  different 
men  she  knew,  made  her  way  beyond  my  range  of  vis- 
ion. During  the  play  I  saw  Yvard  come  in  hurriedly 
and  question  the  man  at  the  door.  He  shrugged  his 


A   NEW   FRIEND  75 

shoulders  and  shook  his  head.  Yvard  evidently  asked 
who  had  passed  out  or  in. 

The  doorkeeper  then  recollected,  and  I  imagined  he 
was  telling  of  the  two  gentlemen  who  had  just  gone 
down  the  stair.  Yvard  stood  an  instant  as  if  uncertain 
what  to  do.  He  was  much  agitated  and  perfectly  sober. 
He  glanced  toward  the  table  where  he  had  left  me.  I 
was  gone.  He  strode  over  to  his  confederate,  yet  en- 
gaged in  play,  and  made  no  pretense  of  concealing  the 
abruptness  of  his  question.  The  man,  in  reply,  indicated 
my  position  at  the  other  table.  Yvard  appeared  some- 
what relieved.  Again  he  spoke,  and  this  time  the  man 
at  the  table  gathered  up  the  money  in  front  of  him  and 
replaced  it  in  his  purse.  Then  he  cried  loud  enough 
for  me  to  hear: 

"What?" 

And  sprang  up  instantly.  They  both  looked  at  me 
and  held  a  hurried  consultation,  then  separated,  and  one 
going  one  way,  one  the  other,  came  over  toward  where 
I  sat.  By  this  time  my  second  throw  was  made,  and  I 
felt  if  Florine  played  me  false  the  game  was  lost.  Yet 
hoping  for  everything  I  rose  quietly,  and  thrusting  my 
winnings  in  a  wallet — for  I  had  been  fortunate — stepped 
back  and  laid  my  hand  upon  the  knob.  It  was  locked. 
I  had  no  time  to  think,  but  saw  the  whole  trick;  lured 
to  my  destruction,  hemmed  in  beyond  hope  of  escape. 
Bitterly  I  repented  my  folly. 

I  have  heard  men  say  they  faced  death  without  a 
tremor,  and  so  for  that  matter  have  I,  yea,  many  times, 
but  it  was  upon  an  honest  field  in  lawful  fight  for  honor's 


76  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

sake  or  duty's.  My  cheek  paled  in  spite  of  me,  at  sight 
of  the  men  who  now  came  on.  Three  others  with  blades 
half  drawn  pressed  close  behind  Yvard.  How  many 
more  there  were  I  had  no  knowledge. 

It  was  a  sore  test  to  my  courage  thus  to  meet  the 
ugly  chill  of  death  in  a  Parisian  gambling  hell — in  a 
place  of  such  ill-repute.  But  there  was  no  escape,  and 
even  if  I  fell  in  fight,  they  would  brand  me  as  a  thief. 
Should  the  papers  be  found  on  my  body,  then  honora- 
ble men  would  execrate  my  memory  as  a  traitor  to 
country  and  to  King,  for  had  not  Serigny  told  me  htf 
could  not  avow  my  connection  with  him?  The  lust  of 
life  still  surging  strong  within  me,  I  drew  my  sword. 
Its  point  effectually  guarded  the  narrow  space  in  front 
from  post  to  post.  They  parleyed  a  time,  and  I  rested 
firm  against  the  door. 

"Come,  fellow,  thou  art  trapped;  give  me  up  my 
purse." 

"Spit  the  thief,  run  him  through,"  came  from  one  of 
those  behind — for  the  rear  guard,  beyond  the  reach 
of  steel,  was  ever  loud  and  brave.  But  Yvard,  being 
in  front,  was  more  cautious.  He  well  knew  the  first 
man  who  came  against  me  would  be  badly  hurt.  And, 
I  rather  fancied,  he  respected  my  blade. 

As  they  took  counsel  together,  dozens  of  voices  from 
the  hall  swelled  the  din,  yet  above  it  all  I  caught  a  light 
step  without.  My  heart  bounded  to  my  throat;  I  felt 
the  door  give  way  at  my  back,  and  before  they  under- 
stood what  had  happened,  I  was  safe  on  the  other  side, 
with  the  stout  oaken  boards  well  locked  between. 


A   NEW    FRIEND  77 

I  heard  Yvard  yell:  "To  the  great  gate,  my  bullies, 
and  I  will  follow  here,"  and  at  once  a  great  pressure  was 
cast  against  the  door,  but  it  bravely  bore  the  strain. 

"Come,"  Florine  said;  and  taking  me  by  the  hand 
together  we  sped  through  many  dark  and  devious  wind- 
ings, until  I  stood  once  more  in  the  open  street. 

"Hurry,  Monsieur,  take  that  street;  it  leads  to  Rue 
St.  Antoine,  whence  Monsieur  can  find  his  way." 

I  would  have  paused  a  moment  to  thank  the  girl,  but 
she  bade  me  haste.  I  pressed  a  piece  of  gold  into  her 
hand ;  she  would  not  have  it. 

"No,  Monsieur,  not  for  your  gold,"  and  the  woman 
of  the  wine  shop  shamed  my  thought.  "Good-night, 
Monsieur."  She  kissed  my  hand,  and  drew  back  into 
the  darkness. 

I  turned  hastily  down  the  street,  but  had  not  made 
more  than  the  distance  of  three  rods  when  I  heard  a 
scream,  and  looking  back  saw  two  men  dragging  Flo- 
rine back  into  the  street. 

"Which  way  did  he  go?"  Yvard  demanded  fiercely. 

She  made  no  reply. 

"Speak  quick  or  I'll  kill  you  as  I  would  a  hare." 

Still  she  kept  her  tongue. 

"She  makes  time  for  her  lover,  Carne,"  the  other 
man  suggested,  and  as  I  feared  he  would  strike,  I  called 
out  loudly  to  them : 

"Here  he  is,"  to  draw  them  off  from  the  girl. 

They  dropped  her  at  once  and  started  in  my  direction. 
I  ran  on  ahead,  yet  at  a  disadvantage,  for  I  knew  not 
where  to  go,  knowing,  too,  that  I  could  not  fight  them 


78  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

both.  Yet  more  than  all  I  dreaded  falling  into  the 
hands  of  the  city  guard  with  the  papers  I  had  upon  me. 
I  ran  under  a  street  lamp,  and  taking  up  a  position  some 
twenty  feet  beyond  in  the  dark,  waited.  The  knife  for 
one,  the  sword  for  the  other,  was  my  thought.  Holding 
my  long  sword  in  my  left  hand,  I  swung  my  right  free, 
and  catching  my  knife  by  its  point,  stood  my  ground. 
The  younger  man  was  swifter,  yet  seemed  afraid  to 
lead  Yvard.  So  they  passed  under  the  lamp  side  by  side. 

Selecting  Yvard  as  my  mark,  I  made  a  quick  cast, 
and  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  my  knife  glitter  as  it 
struck  him  full  in  the  shoulder,  and  bury  itself  well  to 
the  hilt.  It  was  a  trick  I  had  learned  from  the  Indians, 
and  it  had  not  been  lost. 

"A  million  devils,  who  was  that?"  screamed  the 
stricken  man,  tugging  to  free  the  knife.  Out  it  came, 
followed  by  a  widening  dark  stain  upon  his  doublet. 

"He  had  others  with  him — hidden  in  the  dark,"  and 
at  his  companion's  suggestion,  they  stood  back  to  back, 
in  readiness  for  their  imaginary  foes. 

This  gave  me  an  opportunity  to  slip  away,  they  pur- 
suing no  further.  I  dodged  round  the  next  corner  and 
took  my  way  up  a  street  running  parallel  to  the  one  I 
left. 

When  they  no  longer  came  I  slackened  my  pace  to  a 
walk,  trying  in  vain  to  recall  how  I  came  and  how  to 
reach  Rue  St.  Denis.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to 
keep  straight  on.  The  streets  grew  broader  and  travel- 
ers were  not  so  few.  I  questioned  several,  and  for  a 
coin  secured  an  honest-looking  idler  to  guide  me.  It 


A   NEW    FRIEND  79 

was  not  so  very  far  after  all  to  my  inn,  yet  right  joyful  I 
was  to  see  the  place  again  and  to  find  a  cheerful  fire 
blazing  on  the  hearth.  I  stood  before  the  homelike 
warmth  and  chuckled  to  myself  at  the  success  of  my 
adventure. 

The  host  and  some  crony  of  his  sat  at  table  with  their 
cards  and  ale.  I  overlooked  the  game,  They  ex- 
changed glances  and  prepared  to  leave  off,  whereat  I 
apologized  and  begged  them  not  to  let  me  disturb  them. 
Claude  declared  he  had  only  waited  for  me,  and  being 
tired  he  would  shut  the  house.  He  went  on  up  to  bed 
and  his  friend  took  a  seat  beside  me  at  the  fire. 

He  was  a  simple-looking  young  fellow,  dressed  after 
the  fashion  of  a  peasant  farmer,  with  mild  blue  eyes, 
and  straggling  yellow  whiskers  on  his  chin.  I  thought 
to  question  him  about  the  city. 

"Well,  friend,  how  goes  the  world  in  Paris?  " 

"Much  the  same  as  ever,  yet  your  Paris  is  new  to 
me.  " 

"Indeed?  You  are  not  of  the  city;  of  what  place, 
then?" 

"Of  Languedoc,  in  the  south,  where  the  skies  are 
bluer  and  the  wind  does  not  cut  you  through  as  it  does 
in  this  damp  Paris  of  yours." 

"Yes,  I  thought  you  of  Languedoc,  from  your 
speech.  So  the  climate  is  with  us  in  our  parts  beyond 
the  seas.  Beneath  our  southern  sun  ice  is  a  thing  al- 
most unknown,  and  the  snow  never  comes." 

"And  where  do  you  live,  my  lord?"  his  eyes  wide 
open  and  shallow. 


8O  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

I  felt  somewhat  flattered  at  his  artless  recognition  of 
the  difference  in  our  stations. 

"In  Biloxi;  the  Southern  Provinces,  Louisiana,"  I 
explained,  "whereof  Bienville  is  governor." 

Afterward  I  thought  I  could  remember  a  knowing 
twinkle  in  the  fellow's  eye,  which  passed  unnoticed  at 
the  moment. 

"Ah,  I  hear  much  of  the  colonies;  it  must  be  a 
goodly  land  to  dwell  in,  but  for  the  savages  and  the 
cannibals." 

I  laughed  outright. 

"Verily,  friend,  we  have  no  cannibals  worse  than  the 
barbarous  Spaniards  who  wait  but  the  chance  to 
slaughter  our  garrison,"  and  before  I  was  aware,  I  had 
told  him  of  my  voyage  from  Biloxi,  and  of  going  to 
Versailles,  stopping  short  only  of  giving  the  purpose  of 
my  visit  to  Paris.  I  was  sore  ashamed  of  the  indiscretion. 
When  I  looked  I  found  him  laughing  silently  to  himself, 
laughing  at  me. 

"Then  you  are  Captain  de  Mouret?"  he  asked  with 
purest  Parisian  intonation,  and  the  courtesy  of  a  gentle- 
man. 

"How  do  you  know?"  I  attempted  to  be  stern,  but 
somehow  my  effort  fell  flat.  "How  do  you  know?" 

"Well,  I've  been  expecting  you,"  and  he  brushed 
his  hand  across  his  chin,  wiping  the  yellow  whiskers 
away  before  my  astonished  eyes. 

"I  am  Jerome  de  Greville.  Claude  told  me  of  your 
coming,  but  I  wished  to  make  sure.  We  have  ex- 
amined your  baggage,"  he  went  on  frankly,  unmindful 


A   NEW   FRIEND  8 1 

of  my  ill-concealed  disapproval,  "but  found  nothing  in 
the  way  of  identification.  You  see,"  he  apologized, 
"these  things  are  necessary  here,  in  affairs  of  this  nature, 
if  a  fellow  would  preserve  the  proper  connection  between 
his  head  and  his  body." 

He  rolled  up  his  whiskers,  laid  aside  a  yellow  wig, 
and  I  could  see  he  was  as  Serigny  had  described.  He 
was  not  as  tall  as  I,  but  strongly  built,  and  some  two 
good  years  my  senior. 

"Captain,  if  you  will  allow  me  I  will  take  these  traps 
of  yours  to  our  apartments.  You  lodge  with  me." 

I  was  nettled  that  I  should  have  spoken  so  freely  to  a 
stranger,  and  felt  ill-disposed  to  be  pleasant,  but  he  soon 
drove  away  any  lingering  animosity. 

When  we  had  settled  in  our  rooms,  which  adjoined, 
de  Greville  threw  himself  across  his  couch  and  said : 

"Look  here,  de  Mouret,  we  have  a  hard  task  before 
us,  and  you  may  as  well  know  it.  M.  de  Serigny  tells 
me  he  has  instructed  you  himself,  but  details  he  would 
leave  to  me.  What's  your  name?" 

"Placide,"  I  replied  as  simply  as  a  lad  of  ten. 

"Well,  I'm  Jerome.  We  are  to  stand  together  now, 
and  men  engaged  in  business  like  ours  have  no  time  for 
extra  manners." 

His  ban  camaraderie  was  contagious,  and  I  gladly 
caught  it.  "Agreed,  Jerome;  so  be  it.  Go  on." 

"First  we  must  locate  our  friend  Carne  Yvard,  the 
very  fiend  of  a  fellow,  who  stops  at  nothing.  Then  to 
catch  him  with  the  papers,  take  them,  cost  what  it  will. 
6— BLACK  WOLF 


82  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

For  that  work  we  have  strong  lads  enough  and  true. 
Above  all  we  must  make  no  mistake  when  we  strike, 
for  if  he  scents  our  suspicions  of  him  he'll  whisk  them 
off  to  Spain  before  you  could  bat  your  eye." 

I  listened  to  him  intently,  yet  enjoying  to  the  utmost 
my  prospective  triumph.  He  went  on: 

"Then  there  is  that  other  fellow;  we  don't  know  who 
he  is,  the  one  that  came  over  with  you.  He  will  prob- 
ably exchange  dispatches  with  Yvard,  then  off  to  the 
colonies  again.  There  is  not  so  much  trouble  about 
him,  for  he  can  be  captured  aboard  ship.  It  is  Yvard 
we  want,  and  his  dispatches." 

I  said  very  quietly,  still  looking  into  the  fire : 

"That  much  is  already  done." 

Jerome  raised  up  on  his  elbow  and  stared  at  me  as  if 
he  thought  me  mad. 

"I  have  taken  those  dispatches  from  your  friend. 
Here  they  are." 

"The  devil  you  have,"  he  cried  out,  reaching  the 
middle  of  the  floor  at  a  single  bound.  "How  and 
when?" 

He  would  not  leave  off  until  I  had  related  the  whole 
of  my  adventure  beginning  with  meeting  the  girl,  and 
ending  when  I  found  him,  at  the  inn.  He  was  as 
happy  as  a  school-boy,  and  laughed  heartily  at  my  be- 
ing so  readily  made  a  victim  of  by  the  girl  Florine. 

"Such  tender  doves  to  pluck  she  does  not  often  find, 
and  I  warrant  you  she  lets  not  many  go  so  easily. ' ' 

I  thought  it  unnecessary  to  tell  him  of  my  encounter 


A   NEW   FRIEND  83 

with  Yvard,  only  that  I  had  found  the  packet  where  he 
dropped  it. 

"You  lucky  dog;  it's  well  he  did  not  see  you,  or 
you  might  not  now  be  talking  to  me  with  a  whole  skin." 

It  was  better  though  to  let  him  know  of  Yvard 's 
wound,  for  that  would  perhaps  assist  us  in  a  measure  to 
determine  upon  our  future  course.  So  that  part  of  the 
affair  I  detailed  in  full. 

"Verily,  lad,  your  savage  accomplishment  stood  you 
in  good  stead." 

He  recognized  the  description  I  gave  of  the  fellow 
with  Yvard,  but  said  he  was  a  bully,  hired  merely  to 
fight,  and  perhaps  knew  nothing  of  consequence.  Then 
we  examined  very  closely  the  envelope  containing  the 
papers.  It  had,  from  all  appearance,  come  over  from 
the  colonies,  and  bore  traces  of  having  long  been  car- 
ried about  a  man's  person.  This  settled  one  matter. 
The  go-betweens  had  met,  and  the  traitor  on  le  Dauphin 
was  most  likely  in  possession  of  the  instructions  from 
Spain.  This  made  his  capture  the  more  important. 

De  Greville  well  merited  all  Serigny  had  said  of  his 
shrewdness,  and  more.  Now  see  what  a  simple  scheme 
he  laid. 

We  were  first  to  find  where  Yvard  was  hidden.  He 
would  certainly  go  into  hiding  until  his  wound  was 
healed ;  the  finding  of  the  papers  upon  him  making  it 
necessary  he  should  not  be  seen  in  Paris. 

Where  would  he  be  likely  to  secrete  himself?  Ah, 
trust  a  woman  for  that;  so  reasoned  Jerome.  What 
woman?  L'Astrea,  of  course.  Of  her  intrigue  with 


84  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Yvard,  de  Greville,  who  was  a  handsome  gallant  with  a 
smooth  tongue,  had  learned  from  a  waitress  at  Bertrand's. 
This  was  the  more  probable  because,  Bertrand's  being  a 
public  place,  the  confederate  could  seek  him  there  with- 
out suspicion.  This  confederate  being  unknown  and 
unsuspected  could  come  and  go  unchallenged.  Jerome's 
deductions  were  plain  enough  when  he  told  me  these 
things  and  the  wherefore. 

It  was  agreed  our  plan  would  be  to  watch  L' Astrea ; 
she  at  least  would  enable  us  to  find  Yvard,  or  his  ac- 
complice whom  we  most  wished  to  discover. 

Who  would  do  this?  Why  I,  of  course,  for  no  one 
knew  me,  or  would  know  me  when  I  had  wrought  the 
miracle  of  shining  boots,  blue  coat,  curly  wig,  laces  at 
throat,  in  all  which  small  matters  Jerome  was  a  con- 
noisseur, and  so  it  was  laid  out  with  much  care ;  run 
the  quarry  to  earth,  then  continue  the  chase  as  needs 
demanded. 

Yet  folly  of  follies;  how  lightly  are  such  well  ar- 
ranged plans  broken  into.  Through  a  woman  came  all 
this  scheming,  by  a  woman's  hand  it  was  all  swept  into 
naught.  Both  innocent  of  intention,  both  ignorant  of 
effect.  Yet  it  was  true.  Jerome  and  I,  as  we  then 
thought,  disposed  our  pieces  with  great  care  and  cir- 
cumspection, advanced  the  pawns,  guarded  the  king, 
and  made  ready  for  the  final  checkmate.  Yet  a  woman's 
caprice  overturned  the  board,  scattered  our  puppets  far 
and  wide,  and  by  the  tyranny  of  an  accident  recast  our 
game  on  other  lines,  without  rule  or  rhyme  or  reason. 


CHAPTER  IX 

MADEMOISELLE 

IN  the  morning  of  the  following  day  we  were  engaged 
about  a  business  which  troubled  me  no  little.  Had 
it  not  been  for  Jerome  I  fear  I  had  never  come  through 
it  at  all  with  credit. 

First,  we  repaired  to  another  house  which  Jerome 
possessed  in  a  more  fashionable  quarter,  and  thither  by 
his  directions  came  a  fawning  swarm  of  tailors,  boot- 
makers, barbers,  wig-makers;  vendors  of  silken  hose 
and  men  with  laces,  jaunty  caps,  perfumes — it  was  a 
huge  task,  this  making  a  gentlemen  of  me — as  Jerome 
phrased  it. 

I  worried  over  it  grievously  in  the  beginning,  but  at 
length  sullenly  delivered  myself  into  his  hands,  murmur- 
ing an  abject  prayer  for  the  salvation  of  my  soul.  That, 
at  least,  was  not  to  be  remodeled  by  all  their  fashion- 
able garniture.  These  heated  discussions  concerning 
what  I  was  to  wear  were  not  for  me  to  put  a  voice  in. 
Verily,  I  knew  nothing  and  cared  naught  for  the  cut  of 
a  shoe  my  Lord  of  Orleans  had  made  the  style,  nor  did 
it  matter  whether  my  coat  was  slashed  with  crimson  or 
braided  with  golden  furbelows.  Like  some  wretch 
a-quivering  of  the  palsy  I  heard  the  learned  doctors 
(85) 


86  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

wrangling  over  my  medicine,  which  they  must  needs 
hold  my  nose  to  make  me  swallow.  For  all  their  biases 
and  twistings  I  knew  full  well  they  could  carve  no  sprig 
of  fashion  from  so  rough  a  block  as  I.  Certes,  I  must 
now  have  a  squire  to  fasten  this  new  harness  well  upon 
me,  for  by  my  word,  I  knew  not  one  garment  from  the 
other  by  sight  of  it.  Jerome  went  off  into  fits  of  laugh- 
ter seeing  me  trying  to  struggle  into  things  I  could  not 
even  guess  the  use  of. 

When  the  worst  was  over,  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  felt 
like  a  play-actor,  dressed  for  his  part,  but  who,  for  the 
life  of  him,  could  not  recall  one  syllable  of  his  speech, 
nor  breathe  because  of  his  wig.  Jerome  surveyed  me 
with  a  half-critical,  half-approving  scrutiny,  until  I  es- 
sayed to  buckle  on  my  sword. 

"By  my  lady,  fine  sir,  that  dingy  old  cutlass  will 
never  do  for  a  drawing-room.  As  well  a  miller's  dusty 
cap  to  cover  those  glorious  borrowed  curls  of  thine ;  we 
must  get  thee  one  shaped  in  the  mode."  This  quip 
exterminated  my  patience. 

"To  the  foul  fiend  with  all  this  everlasting  style  of 
thine.  I  know  this  blade,  have  tested  it  on  many  fields, 
and  by  all  the  gods  £t  once  I'll  not  replace  it  with  a 
silly  toy." 

"A  most  virtuous  resolution,  a  most  godly  oath,  but 
my  mettlesome  friend,  I'll  point  out  thy  error." 

To  his  insinuating  argument,  even  in  this  matter,  at 
length  I  yielded ;  surrendered  with  the  better  grace  per- 
haps, that  he  provided  a  most  excellent  piece  of  steel, 
which  he  said  had  seen  good  service.  I  tried  its  tern- 


MADEMOISELLE  8/ 

per,  and  the  edge  being  keen,  I  laid  my  own  aside  with 
sore  misdoubtings,  casting  off  an  old  friend  to  strap  on 
a  new.  He  now  added  a  touch  of  rouge  here  and 
there,  a  black  line  to  my  brows  and  in  the  corners  of  my 
eyes,  stepping  back  ever  and  anon  to  observe  the  effect. 
It  galled  me  raw,  yet  I  must  perforce  submit.  When 
the  whole  job  was  finished,  and  I  was  allowed  to  sit,  I 
gained  no  comfort.  My  clothes  were  too  tight  in  some 
places,  while  in  others  I  rocked  about  as  loose  as  a 
washerwoman's  arm  in  her  scrubbing  tub. 

Jerome  must  now  give  me  some  lessons  in  deport- 
ment, he  called  it.  It  was  but  another  name  for  a 
smirking  and  a-bowing  and  a-grimacing,  what  was  de- 
nominated the  "etiquette  of  the  court."  Jerome  sat 
himself  contented  down,  and  put  me  through  my  paces 
like  some  farrier  showing  off  a  foundered  nag.  I  more 
than  half  believed  he  was  all  the  while  making  game  of 
me,  yet  I  knew  no  better.  At  any  rate  it  was  the  veriest 
nonsense. 

After  a  series  of  rehearsals  Jerome  withdrew  to  make 
himself  ready,  leaving  me  to  practice  my  new  acquire- 
ments of  gait,  of  gesture,  and  of  speech.  What  had 
taken  me  the  better  part  of  a  laborious  day  he  accom- 
plished in  a  short  half  hour.  Coming  back  unannounced 
he  caught  me  bowing  and  scraping  before  a  mirror,  like 
a  man  stricken  with  idiocy.  I  felt  as  shamed  as  though 
I  had  been  detected  hiding  in  face  of  the  enemy. 

Jerome  mocked  and  taunted  me  into  a  fine  rage, 
which  he  deftly  pacified  in  wonderment  at  himself.  I 
should  never  have  known  him  again  for  the  plain  Jerome. 


THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Arrayed  in  much  the  same  character  of  finery  which  be- 
decked me,  I  could  give  no  accurate  description  of  his 
dress,  except  that  with  glossy  wig  and  a  bit  of  color  in 
his  cheeks  he  strutted  valiantly  as  a  crowing  cock  in  his 
own  barnyard. 

"Come,  Placide,  we  are  going  to  a  ball;  we  can  do 
nothing  in  our  quest  to-night." 

"To  a  what?" 

"A  ball.  I  thought  it  might  be  well  to  have  you 
look  in  upon  Madame  M — 's  and  recite  your  lessons. 
It  is  to  be  a  famous  gathering  and  well  worth  your  seeing. ' ' 

I  was  in  a  whirl,  a  stupor,  by  this  time,  and  obeyed 
implicitly;  beside,  it  required  such  an  infinite  skill  to 
keep  my  sword  from  swinging  between  my  legs  and 
throwing  me  down,  I  had  no  time  to  consider  of  minor 
matters.  He  led  the  way  and  I  followed  meekly  as  a 
lap-dog. 

At  the  great  entrance  gate  we  became  entangled  in  a 
medley  of  soldiers,  coachmen,  torch-bearers  and  serv- 
ants coming  and  going — such  a  babel  of  strange  oaths — 
I  wished  I  were  safe  again  in  the  quiet  of  Biloxi.  I 
pleaded  with  Jerome  to  turn  again,  but  he  was  inexor- 
able. 

"I  expect  to  find  out  something  to-night,"  he  ex- 
plained. 

Of  this  ball  I  remember  nothing  but  that  the  slippery 
floor,  in  which  a  man  could  see  his  own  face,  kept  me 
in  deadly  fear  lest  my  sword  trip  me.  Jerome  was  gay 
and  talkative,  pointing  out  many  people  of  whom  I  had 
heard,  but  they  did  not  look  so  great  after  all. 


MADEMOISELLE  89 

"For  sake  of  heaven  man,  wear  not  so  long  a  face; 
it  is  not  the  funeral  of  thy  mistress  I  have  brought  thee 
to." 

I  marveled  that  so  many  old  ladies  should  carry 
such  young  faces  or  perchance  their  hair  had  turned 
gray  earlier  than  was  its  wont  in  the  colonies,  And,  too, 
they  seemed  sadly  disfigured  with  boils,  for  on  the  chin 
or  cheek  of  nearly  every  one  there  showed  a  patch  of 
black  sticking-plaster.  Poor  things !  I  sorrowed  for 
them,  it  was  so  humiliating.  Verily,  I  pitied  them  all, 
and  speculated  on  the  wonderful  compensations  of  Prov- 
idence. With  all  their  wealth  and  rank,  their  lordly 
castles  and  their  jewels,  these  noble  dames  could  not 
purchase  that  which  the  humblest  serving-maid  in  Que- 
bec had,  and  to  spare — a  clear  skin  and  sunny  locks. 

I  touched  upon  these  matters  to  Jerome,  but  he  only 
laughed  immoderately.  He  was  ever  a  light-headed 
young  spark  who  gave  no  contemplation  to  deeper 
questions  than  present  enjoyment. 

Of  a  sudden  my  wits  almost  left  me  at  a  terrible  out- 
cry from  one  end  of  the  great  hall,  a  cry  not  of  human 
beings  but  of  wild  beasts,  muffled  and  menacing.  The 
dancing,  the  music,  the  hum  of  voices  ceased,  and  a 
thick  silence  as  of  direst  fear  fell  upon  them  all.  Then 
there  came  a  loud  crackling  and  shattering  of  glass,  a 
woman's  scream,  the  first  of  very  many.  This  for 
aught  I  know  might  have  been  a  usual  happening  at  a 
ball,  I  had  never  been  to  one  before. 

I  looked  for  Jerome.  He  was  gone,  speeding  toward 
a  young  lady  surpassing  fair,  with  whom  he  had  been 


90  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

speaking  but  a  few  moments  since.  I  fain  would  have 
assisted  him,  for  the  damsel  appeared  wofully  beset,  but 
the  whole  throng  of  mincing  lords  and  screaming  ladies, 
in  the  rankest  riot,  over-ran  me.  They  swept  me  from 
my  feet  and  bore  me  back  to  the  farthest  wall,  where  I 
found  myself  pinned  tight  and  fast  against  a  window. 

What  the  danger  was  I  could  not  see,  but  it  must 
have  been  dolorous  from  the  headlong  terror  of  their 
flight.  Soon  by  the  thinning  of  the  crowd  through  the 
doors  I  saw  the  cause.  It  was  a  motley  and  a  moving 
spectacle.  For  by  some  mischance  a  flock  of  sheep  had 
broken  into  the  ball-room,  and  frightened  out  of  their 
shallow  senses  by  the  lights  and  music,  they  rushed  pell- 
mell  here  and  there,  upsetting  without  discrimination 
whatever  stood  in  their  path. 

Verily  such  an  onset  would  do  brave  work  against  an 
enemies'  ranks,  for  could  our  knights  but  make  a  gap 
like  that,  an  army  of  children  might  march  through  un- 
hindered. All  went  down  alike  before  their  charge,  my 
lord  and  my  lady,  the  Prince  of  the  Blood,  and  the 
humblest  page  who  bore  his  pouncet  box.  Such  a  slip- 
ping and  a  sliding  across  a  floor  slickened  with  much 
wax  and  polishing,  was  never  in  a  ball  room  before,  nor 
ever  was  again.  One  old  ram  regarded  each  mirror  as 
a  certain  avenue  of  escape,  and  the  radiating  fracture  of 
each  taught  him  no  greater  wisdom  concerning  the 
others. 

Standing  spellbound  as  a  statue  in  the  midst  of  the 
ruins,  I  caught  sight  of  a  florid,  rotund  lady,  speechless 
in  her  horror  and  her  misery. 


MADEMOISELLE  pi 

"The  Duchess  does  not  enjoy  her  quaint  surprise," 
laughed  a  light  voice  behind  me,  and  a  slim  finger  di- 
rected my  gaze  toward  the  lady  whom  I  had  just  noted. 

I  observed  then  at  my  back,  standing  upon  a  chair 
where  she  could  see  the  better,  a  young  woman  of  dis- 
tinguished appearance,  rather  more  plainly  attired  than 
the  balance.  She  appeared  greatly  to  enjoy  the  con- 
fusion. 

"That  is  the  reward  for  her  romantic  and  pastoral 
tastes,"  and  she  laughed  till  the  tears  dripped  down 
her  cheeks.  Her  hair  was  still  black,  and  neither 
paint  nor  sticking  plaster  marred  the  whiteness  of  her 
skin.  I  asked  no  questions,  but  regarded  more  closely 
this  young  woman  with  whom  I  now  drifted  naturally 
into  conversation.  Her  manners  were  strikingly  free 
and  unconstrained.  There  was,  however,  an  air  of  re- 
serve, of  dignity — of  majesty  even — about  her,  despite 
her  frankness,  which  forbade  anything  but  the  utmost 
deference. 

"Does  my  lord  understand — that?"  and  she  pointed 
her  finger  to  the  servants  who  were  chasing  and  captur- 
ing the  refractory  sheep  one  by  one. 

I  shook  my  head,  for,  in  all  seriousness,  it  was  a  queer 
proceeding. 

"Well  it's  too  merry  a  jest  to  keep  long  a  secret. 
Beside  I'm  weary  of  these  eternal  shackles  of  court 
which  forbid  me  to  speak  to  those  wh:>m  I  please."  A 
certain  defiance  gave  an  undercurrent  of  sadness  to  her 
voice,  a  mounting  rebellion  to  her  tone. 


92  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

"And  I  will  talk  if  I  want  to;  there's  no  harm,  is 
there?" 

I  gravely  assured  her  not,  and  wondered  what  was 
coming. 

"Well,  you  see,"  she  dried  her  eyes  on  a  hand- 
kerchief of  costliest  lace,  "you  see  my — that  is,  the 
Duchess,  is  of  such  a  romantic  temperament,  so  enam- 
oured of  rural  scenes,  idyllic  meadows,  pretty  shepherd- 
esses, and  the  like — all  the  court  makes  merry  at  her 
foible.  She  thought  to  astonish  Paris  to-night  by  a  lav- 
ish display  of  sweet  simplicity — did  Monsieur  see  it? 
That  big  dark  place  back  there,  behind  the  glass  parti- 
tion, was  arranged  as  a  meadow,  with  a  stream  winding 
through  it,  and  rocks  and  trees,  and  what  not.  She  had 
a  flock  of  sheep  washed  clean  and  white,  penned  up  and 
in  waiting.  At  a  signal  from  her  during  the  ball,  lights 
were  to  have  been  turned  on,  and  Mademoiselle,  the  pretty 
opera  singer,  was  to  come  gracefully  down  a  curving 
pathway,  dressed  as  a  shepherdess,  singing  and  leading 
her  sheep.  Oh,  it  was  to  be  too  pure  for  this  earth. 
The  Duchess  fretted  for  the  opportune  time.  But  the 
sheep  escaped  from  their  keepers,  and,  oh,  isn't  it  too 
ludicrous?" 

Thus  she  chattered  on  with  the  naive  freedom  of  any 
other  young  demoiselle.  I  agreed  with  her,  and  was 
inwardly  glad  the  affair  turned  out  an  accident,  for  were 
this  the  custom  of  balls  I'd  go  to  no  others. 

We  continued  to  chat  gayly  together;  she  was  of  a 
lively  wit,  and  surprised  me  by  her  knoAvledge  of  dogs 
and  horses,  of  the  chase,  of  sword  play  and  of  fire- 


MADEMOISELLE  93 

arms.  Odd  tastes  for  a  gentlewoman,  most  of  all  for 
one  of  her  exalted  rank.  Of  this  latter  I  had  no  doubt. 
I  knew  none  of  the  people  she  mentioned,  nothing  of 
the  drawing-room  gossip,  and  she  very  naturally  re- 
marked. 

"My  lord  is  a  stranger?" 

"Only  yesterday  in  Paris,"  I  assented. 

"From  what  place  comes  my  lord?"  and  for  the 
second  time  in  a  day  I  was  driven  to  a  direct  lie. 

"From  Normandy,"  I  replied. 

"To  live  in  Paris?" 

"No,  unfortunately;  my  affairs  will  be  finished  in  a 
few  days  at  most.  Then  I  return  to  the  country."  The 
lady  was  pensive  for  a  space,  hesitated  in  a  pretty  per- 
plexity and  then  spoke  doubtfully. 

"You  can  be  of  a  service  to  me  if  you  will." 

I  immediately  signified  my  willingness  to  render  her 
aid,  in  the  courtliest  speech  I  could  muster.  She  looked 
at  me  long  and  seriously  again,  then  again  pursued  the 
subject  of  her  thought. 

"It  is  a  mere  woman's  whim,  but  /gratify  my  whims. 
Perchance  it  is  not  a  proper  wish  for  a  lady  of  birth, 
yet  I  have  it,  and  if  you  will  but  aid  me,  I  will  carry  it 
through." 

Moved  as  much  by  curiosity  as  by  any  other  motive, 
I  inquired  of  her  what  so  weighty  a  matter  could  be. 

"Come,  let  us  go  into  this  ante- room  that  we  may 
converse  undisturbed,"  she  said,  and  led  me  into  a 
quiet  corner  where  there  were  seats.  I  would  have 


94  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

thoughtlessly  taken  a  place  by  her  side,  forgetful  of 
Jerome's  teachings,  but  she  commanded  coldly: 

"Monsieur  will  stand." 

And  I  stood. 

"You  are  a  stranger  in  Paris,  you  seem  a  man  of 
honor;  for  those  reasons  I  choose  you.  I  would  not 
care  to  have  one  of  my  own  gentlemen  know  what  I 
wish  to  do.  All  Paris  would  talk  of  it  to-morrow.  We 
in  the  palace  see  naught  of  the  common  people,  and  I 
have  long  dreamed  it  would  be  a  brave  adventure  to  go 
unknown  among  them,  to  their  inns  and  gathering 
places.  I  have  always  desired  to  know  more  of  our 
Paris,  especially  one  place  which  I  hear  mentioned  fre- 
quently of  late.  My  position  will  not  permit  me  to 
visit  it  openly — you  understand." 

I  protested  that  knowing  naught  of  the  streets  I 
should  be  but  a  blind  guide. 

"I  know  where  I  would  go,"  she  said,  determinedly, 
brushing  aside  the  difficulties  I  would  suggest,  "and  I 
will  go;  you  will  go  too." 

I  was  vastly  troubled  at  this,  for  might  it  not  lead  to 
such  another  escapade  as  came  so  near  costing  me  dear? 
Her  eyes  fixed  full  upon  me,  her  voice  blended  a  com- 
mand which  no  man  dared  disobey,  with  an  entreaty 
which  none  would  willingly  run  counter  to,  and  I  gave 
reluctant  assent. 

"Will  you  await  me  here?"  she  demanded  rather 
than  asked.  "My  apartments  are  in  this  building.  I 
will  return  very  briefly." 

When  the  lady  came  back  she  would  never  have  been 


MADEMOISELLE  95 

taken  for  a  woman ;  her  long  cloak,  such  as  men  wore, 
reached  to  her  boots,  identical  in  all  respects  with  my 
own.  Her  hat,  plume  and  sword  were  correct  and 
bravely  worn.  Her  maid,  a  trifle  nervous  over  the  ad- 
venture, but  who  said  nothing,  bore  a  similar  cloak  for 
me,  and  held  two  masks  in  her  hands. 

"Will  my  lord  throw  this  about  him?"  and  without 
any  question  I  assumed  the  cloak. 

"Now  this,"  and  she  handed  me  a  mask  while  she 
affixed  one  about  her  own  face. 

I  demurred  to  the  mask. 

"I  will  not  take  my  lady  upon  an  errand  where  we 
can  not  show  our  faces." 

She  laughed  merrily,  and  replied:  "It  is  the  way  of 
Paris,  my  lord,  and  naught  is  thought  of  it.  Many  lords 
and  ladies  wish  to  keep  their  faces  from  the  canaille." 

I  drew  a  breath  of  resignation  and  put  it  on. 

"Am  I  not  a  comely  man?"  the  lady  asked,  one 
touch  of  woman's  vanity  showing  through  it  all. 

"Yes,  by  my  faith,  madame;"  but  such  sayings  were 
foreign  to  my  awkward  tongue. 

She  led  me  out  of  the  palace  by  a  private  way,  and 
when  the  street  was  reached  we  walked  along  as  two 
men  would.  She  directed  our  course,  and  as  she  gave 
no  hint  of  her  destination  I  did  not  inquire.  It  was  but 
a  brief  walk  before  we  came  to  an  arched  door  on  a  side 
street,  and  there  she  paused  and  looked  carefully  about 
to  see  that  no  one  watched  us  and  then — in  we  went. 

The  lady  seemed  in  highest  spirits  over  her  unac- 
countable prank,  and  laughed  girlishly.  "Now  I  will 


96  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

gratify  my  curiosity.  You  know  I  admit  my  curiosity, 
sometimes.  These  men  are  not  alone  in  their  thirst  for 
excitement.  It  is  so  tiresome  at  court,  ever  the  same 
thing  day  after  day." 

We  had  now  come  into  a  fairly  wide,  well-lighted 
hall,  and  an  obsequious  attendant  showed  us  up  a  stair, 
and  opening  a  door,  pointed  out  the  place  she  asked 
for.  Imagine  my  utter  astonishment  when  we  stood 
together  within  the  gaming  room  at  Bertrand's.  What 
an  infernal  fool  I  had  been  to  be  tempted  back  into  this 
very  place  of  all  others.  I  thought  at  once  it  was  some 
cowardly  trick  of  Yvard's.  I  seized  the  woman  by  the 
arm,  for  I  supposed  her  then  but  another  decoy;  there 
was  no  telling  how  far  this  Spanish  intrigue  had  gone  or 
what  high  personages  Madame  du  Maine  might  be  able 
to  enlist  in  furtherance  of  her  schemes.  I  seized  her 
firmly,  and  had  taken  one  step  back  towards  the  door 
again,  when  her  cold  ringing  voice  undeceived  me. 

"What  means  my  lord;  I  thought  him  a  gentleman. 
Shall  I  appeal  for  protection  to  these  low  men  here?" 

There  was  such  a  truth  in  her  low  tones  that  I  cast 
her  free,  and  in  some  measure  explained  my  thought. 

"Well,  well,  we'll  not  quarrel  here,"  and  looking 
about  her  with  eager  curiosity,  she  chose  a  table  where 
fewest  players  sat,  and  thitherwards  we  went.  This 
table  was  placed  rather  apart  from  the  others,  against  a 
pillar,  and  no  gamesters  sat  on  the  side  next  the  wall. 
It  left  but  scant  space  to  sit  between.  There  we  took 
our  places,  and  the  lady  tumbled  out  a  purse  well  filled 
with  gold  pieces,  handed  some  to  me  and  bade  me  play. 


MADEMOISELLE  97 

She  laid  her  wagers,  and  won  with  the  glee  of  a  child, 
her  face  alternate  flushed  and  pale.  I  could  see  I 
wronged  her  by  supposing  her  in  league  with  the  place. 
She  played  in  too  feverish  earnest. 

During  this  while  I  had  observed  the  same  two 
men  who  had  met  me  on  the  stair  the  previous  night. 
They  were  walking  about  and  carelessly  looking  on  at 
the  different  games.  Yet  for  all  their  nonchalance  there 
was  a  well-defined  method  in  their  procedure,  that  at- 
tracted my  attention.  The  taller  man  scanned  every 
person  in  the  hall,  and  when  the  lady  and  I  came  in  he 
watched  us  intently. 

His  companion — the  same  as  on  the  previous  night — 
withdrew  to  talk.  After  some  consultation  they  reached 
a  decision.  Together  they  came  our  way,  and  the  tall 
man  clapped  his  hand  twice. 

At  the  signal,  for  such  it  was,  from  every  table  rose  a 
man  or  two,  and  ranged  themselves  about  him  who 
called.  I  could  also  see  a  guard  suddenly  stationed,  as 
if  by  magic,  at  each  point  of  exit.  Where,  here  and 
there,  a  cloak  was  thrown  back,  the  gleam  of  a  uniform 
showed  beneath. 

"There,  my  lads,  is  our  quarry;  take  them,"  com- 
manded the  tall  man,  pointing  to  us. 

I  cursed  myself  for  a  silly  fool  to  run  again  into  such 
danger. 

The  dispatches  in  my  bosom  would  hang  me,  and  I 
dared  not  explain  my  possession  of  them.  It  was  plain, 
too,  that  the  King's  officers,  as  well  as  Serigny,  had 
7— BLACK  WOLF 


98  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

their  suspicions  of  the  place.  It  was  too  late  now  for 
penitence,  it  was  time  to  act. 

The  lady  arose  so  trembling  and  frightened  that  my 
courage  all  came  back  to  me.  She  forgot  her  gold 
pieces  lying  on  the  table  in  front  of  her. 

"My  lord,"  she  whispered,  "you  must  protect  me; 
it  would  be  the  scandal  of  all  France  were  I  to  be  dis- 
covered in  such  a  place." 

Her  appeal  made  me  forget  my  own  imminent  dan- 
ger, and  I  bethought  myself  what  best  to  do.  They 
could  approach  me  by  but  one  side,  and  while  I 
considered  a  parley  with  the  officers,  heard  a  glad  lit- 
tle cry  from  the  lady.  She  calmly  gathered  up  her 
gold  and  restored  it  to  her  purse,  as  if  the  matter  were 
already  settled,  though  I  could  see  no  change  in  the 
front  of  those  around  us.  As  the  soldiers  would  have 
pulled  the  table  away,  she  bade  them  wait,  and  said:  "I 
would  speak  to  your  leader." 

The  tall  man  asked:  "And  what  would  you  say?  We 
have  no  time  to  talk." 

"It  is  not  to  you,  I  know  you  both;  I  would  speak 
to  my  lord  by  your  side.  " 

With  that,  the  other,  who  had  remained  rather  in  the 
background,  came  forward,  and  she  took  him  aside 
where  none  could  hear,  save  myself  a  word  or  two.  The 
lady  spoke  to  him  in  a  low,  quiet  tone,  and  raised  her 
mask  a  little.  The  man  started  back,  then  removed  his 
cap  deferentially.  I  was  close  enough  to  hear  his  ex- 
clamation : 

"Mademoiselle  la  Princesse." 


MADEMOISELLE  99 

"Hush,"  she  placed  her  finger  on  her  lips,  "he  does 
not  know,"  indicating  me  by  a  gesture. 

I  was  as  astonished  as  he,  but  had  no  further  anxiety. 
No  officer  would  dare  arrest  a  Princess  of  the  Blood  in 
such  a  place. 

"What  does  Mademoiselle  do  in  Bertrand's  gaming 
house?" 

"It  is  not  for  you  to  question,  my  lord,"  she  drew 
herself  up  coldly,  "I  chose  it.  Now  I  would  go.  Pro- 
vide an  escort  for  me  and  the  gentleman  who  has  the 
honor  to  accompany  me." 

She  came  back  to  me  smiling.  "We  will  go  in  peace; 
It  is  Vauban.  It  must  be  no  trifling  matter  to  fetch  him 
out  to-night.  I  wonder  who  it  is  he  seeks?" 

I  thought  I  could  enlighten  her,  perhaps,  but  kept  a 
still  tongue. 

Vauban  gave  a  quiet  order  to  the  tall  man,  who,  it 
appears,  was  in  command  of  the  squad,  which  order 
he  in  turn  communicated  to  them. 

"We  have  made  a  mistake.  Permit  these  gentlemen 
to  pass  out,  and  none  else." 

Vauban  then  interrupted : 

"De  Verrue,  do  you  take  ten  men  and  escort  these, 
these — gentlemen  where  they  will." 

A  young  officer  stepped  forward  at  the  word,  but 
seemed  not  pleased  to  leave  in  face  of  more  exciting 
events. 

"Nay,  nay,  boy  do  not  look  so  glum;  take  my 
word,  it  is  an  honor  a  marshal  of  France  would  assume 
did  not  sterner  duties  bid  him  stay." 


100  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

My  lady  tossed  her  purse  to  the  sergeant  as  she 
passed : 

"Divide  this  with  your  men,  and  drink  a  health  to— ~ 
well — the  Princess  Unknown. ' ' 


CHAPTER  X 

IN  THE   HOUSE  OF  BERTRAND 

IT  would  now  have  been  a  most  simple  matter  for  me 
to  go  out  unmolested  beside  the  princess.  And  this 
is  what  I  should  have  done  had  it  not  been  for  an  acci- 
dent. While  Vauban  was  talking  to  the  princess,  I 
glanced  round  the  room  to  see  if  Yvard  was  there,  or 
any  other  person  likely  to  know  of  this  business.  There 
was  one  figure  strolling  about  in  the  rear  which  wore  a 
familiar  look,  yet  I  could  not  say  I  had  seen  the  man 
before. 

When  Vauban  gave  the  order  to  allow  us  to  pass  "and 
none  else,"  this  man  very  visibly  took  on  an  air  of 
apprehension.  He  looked  from  one  door  to  the  other 
and,  finding  all  guarded,  was  quite  alarmed,  then,  without 
perceiving  himself  observed,  he  manned  himself  with 
his  former  unconcerned  manner.  There  was  something 
in  the  poise  of  his  head,  his  walk,  which  came  as  a  well 
remembered  thing  from  some  secret  niche  of  memory. 

Now  as  the  princess  and  I  walked  out  in  front  of  our 
guard,  this  man  fell,  as  if  naturally,  into  the  rear  of  our 
company,  and  attempted  nonchalantly  to  saunter  out 
behind  us.  The  guard  at  the  door  locked  their  bayo- 
nets across,  barring  his  exit. 

(101) 


102  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"By  whose  orders,"  he  demanded  with  some  show 
of  haughty  indignation,  "do  you  hold  me  a  prisoner 
with  this  disorderly  rabble?" 

"Marshal  Vauban's,"  the  sentry  replied,  unmoved. 

The  man  shrank  back  perceptibly ;  as  I  took  a  longer 
sight  of  him  the  familiarity  of  voice  and  figure  recurred 
more  strongly.  I  stood  still  to  look.  He  turned  his 
face.  Broussard!  I  almost  spoke  the  name.  Yes,  be- 
yond all  perad venture  it  was  Broussard,  disguised,  but 
still  Broussard. 

What  a  world  ol  vain  speculation  this  opened  on  the 
instant,  speculation  to  which  no  answer  came.  How 
much  and  what  had  I  told  him  during  our  voyage? 
How  had  he  treasured  it  and  where  repeated  it?  For  I 
had  now  no  other  thought  than  he  was  the  spy  who 
brought  Yvard  the  packet  designed  for  Spain. 

"Come  my  lord,  are  you  dreaming?"  the  princess 
broke  in  impatiently.  I  had  quite  forgotten  her. 

"No  madame,  I  crave  your  patience,  and  beg  atten- 
tion a  moment." 

I  then  asked  hurriedly  whether  she  knew  the  young 
officer  in  charge  of  our  escort,  and  whether  she  would 
trust  him  to  see  her  to  a  place  of  safety.  She  knew  the 
lad  as  a  gentleman  of  birth  and  reputed  honor,  so  with 
the  guard  and  the  marshal's  orders  felt  herself  safe. 
Despite  the  effort  to  speak  coolly  my  whole  frame  and 
voice  quivered  with  excitement  at  prospect  of  winding 
up  the  entire  affair  by  one  more  stroke  of  luck.  See- 
ing which  my  lady  icily  inquired: 


IN   THE   HOUSE   OF   BERTRAND  IO3 

"But  why?  Why  do  you  fear?  Surely  these  soldiers 
are  sufficient  to  afford  protection." 

The  half  veiled  scorn  of  her  manner  cut  me  to  the 
quick,  but  I  determined  not  to  be  drawn  aside  from  my 
purpose.  My  face  still  a-flush  at  her  suggestion  of  cow- 
ardice, I  replied  earnestly: 

"Mademoiselle  la  Princesse — " 

"Ah,  you  know  me?" 

I  nodded. 

"And  yet  are  willing  to  relinquish  the  honor  of  my 
escort?" 

"It  is  duty,  Mademoiselle  la  Princesse;  stern  and  im- 
perative duty." 

"Sh!"  Placing  her  finger  to  her  lips,  "address  me 
simply  as  Madame." 

"Madame,  you  wrong  me;  I  would  not  desert  you 
while  in  danger;  now  I  may  give  you  into  safer  hands 
with  honor.  A  most  urgent  matter  demands  my  pres- 
ence there,"  pointing  inside,  "it  may  cost  my  life.  Had 
I  better  not  acquaint  M.  de  Verrue  with  your  character? 
He  will  then  be  more  circumspect?"  She  thought  a 
space. 

"No,  you  may  tell  him  I  am  a  woman — tell  him  of 
the  stupid  folly  which  led  me  here  to-night  and  brought 
a  brave  gentleman  into  danger — but  not  my  name." 

She  would  have  thanked  me  further,  but  I  was  all  im- 
patience to  be  inside,  seeing  which  she  graciously  bade 
me  go.  I  bethought  me  then  of  the  packet  yet  in  my 
bosom,  and  knowing  all  those  within  were  to  be  searched 
I  took  a  hasty  resolution,  born  of  my  confidence  in  the 


104  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Princess.  It  may  be  said  here  that  the  lady  whom  I  es- 
corted on  that  memorable  night  was  known  throughout 
the  kingdom  for  her  eccentric  tastes,  and  noted  for  never 
meddling  with  intrigues  of  either  state  or  love.  Her 
passion  lay  with  her  dogs  and  horses,  the  hunt,  and  not 
in  the  trifles  of  a  court. 

"Madame,  will  you  not  render  me  a  service  in  re- 
turn?" I  felt  my  whole  attitude  to  be  imploring,  so 
warmly  did  I  bespeak  her  grace. 

"I  have  here  some  papers  of  the  utmost  value  to  my- 
self, to  no  one  else.  My  honor  requires  that  they  be  de- 
livered to  M.  Jerome  deGreville  before  to-morrow's  sun 
arises.  He  keeps  his  lodging  in  Rue  St.  Denis,  at  the 
sign  of  the  Austrian  Arms.  Can  Madame  not  dispatch 
a  trusted  messenger  and  secure  their  delivery?" 

The  fervor  of  the  appeal  touched  her,  for  she  listened 
with  interest. 

"Oh,  Madame,  I  beseech  you,  as  I  have  obeyed  you 
without  question  this  night,  do  not  fail  me  as  you  love 
the  glory  of  France.  You  may  have  M.  de  Greville  in- 
formed how  and  where  you  came  by  them,  in  case  aught 
of  ill  should  happen  to  me  this  night." 

She  took  the  packet. 

"Upon  my  royal  word,"  she  whispered,  in  such  a  tone 
of  sincerity  I  felt  relieved  of  any  uneasiness  concerning 
the  papers. 

I  had  a  real  regret  at  seeing  her  leave  the  hall. 
Walking  so  regally  in  front  of  the  guard  I  wondered  at 
my  thick-headedness  which  had  not  before  perceived  in 
her  every  movement  the  princely  pride  of  Bourbon.  I 


IN   THE   HOUSE   OF   BERTRAND  IO5 

threw  my  cloak,  which  fettered  me,  to  one  of  the  men, 
and  wearing  still  my  mask,  re-entered  the  hall.  They 
were  already  engaged  in  the  search,  questioning  closely 
each  man  in  rotation.  None  was  allowed  to  depart 
without  being  questioned  and  examined.  I  immediately 
sought  for  Broussard.  He  had  gone  over  towards  an- 
other small  door,  the  same  through  which  I  had  escaped 
the  night  before.  There  were  two  guards  posted  here. 

Broussard  dawdled  about  with  the  air  of  a  man 
very  much  bored,  who  only  waited  his  turn  to  go 
through  a  disagreeable  ordeal  that  he  might  leave.  I 
fancied  his  wits  were  actively  at  work  beneath  so  impas- 
sive an  exterior.  He  had  spoken  privately  to  several 
men,  one  at  a  time,  in  careless  fashion,  and  then  tap- 
ping the  legs  of  the  tables,  and  kicking  the  chairs  as  he 
passed,  he  again  came  near  the  door.  I  managed  to 
keep  close  to  him.  As  he  stood  talking  to  the  sentries 
the  four  men  came  up  two  by  two  from  opposite  direc- 
tions, and  at  a  sign  from  him,  grappled  with  the  guard. 
While  they  were  thus  engaged  Broussard  bolted  through 
the  door.  I  drew  my  sword  and  plunged  after  him. 

From  inside,  the  sentries  cried  out:  "The  two  spies 
have  gone  this  way, ' '  and  the  whole  mob  surged  out 
and  divided  in  chase.  Some  perhaps  were  in  league 
with  Broussard,  others  were  in  the  service  of  Vauban,  I 
could  not  tell. 

The  hall  was  densely  dark ;  I  knew  not  the  way,  but 
I  had  Broussard  but  a  few  feet  in  front  to  guide  me ;  be- 
hind, some  twenty  or  thirty  stout  varlets  strung  out  in 
pursuit,  not  a  dozen  paces  to  the  rear. 


106  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

It  so  happened  that  there  was  a  door  which  stood 
half  open,  and  Broussard  being  hard  pressed  doubled 
by  this  and  darted  in.  He  was  but  a  couple  of  yards 
ahead  and  I  alone  observed  this  stratagem.  When  he 
vanished  to  the  right,  I  slipped  in  behind,  just  as  our 
foremost  pursuers  swept  by.  The  great  noises  they 
made  and  the  resounding  echoes  effectually  prevented 
their  notice  of  a  cessation  of  sounds  from  us.  Nor  did 
they  pause  to  listen.  Crushing  through  the  narrow 
passage  their  pressure  slammed  the  door  behind  us.  I 
heard  the  clank  of  a  heavy  bolt  as  it  dropped  into  place. 
Thinking  Broussard  had  sought  some  secret  means  of 
escape  known  to  himself,  and  fearing  he  would  get  away, 
I  dashed  madly  on,  only  to  fetch  up  with  a  terrific  thump 
against  a  stone  wall. 

The  shock  dazed  me  and  I  fell  in  a  heap  to  the  floor. 
Perhaps  it  was  as  well,  for  I  made  no  further  noise.  But 
I  listened. 

The  place  was  intensely  dark,  and  not  a  sound  save 
the  heightened  beating  of  my  own  heart  disturbed  it.  I 
was  afraid  to  move,  lest  I  bring  upon  me  the  crowd  out- 
side. Had  not  one  of  the  men  cried  "two  spies."  It 
did  look  as  if  I  too  was  a  confederate  of  Broussard,  and 
I  could  not  have  explained.  The  echoes  of  the  chase 
died  away,  and  all  was  still.  My  mind  and  ears  were 
very  busy  then  trying  to  make  out  what  sort  of  a  hole 
this  was  I  had  so  unceremoniously  fallen  into.  And 
Broussard?  Where  had  he  disappeared?  I  knew  he 
could  not  be  far,  for  there  had  been  no  footsteps  since 
the  door  shut.  I  took  it  that  he  must  be  in  the  room, 


IN   THE   HOUSE   OF   BERTRAND  IO/ 

and  that  the  reasons  which  enforced  quiet  upon  me  were 
also  powerful  to  him. 

He  was  worse  off  though  than  I,  for  he  had  doubt- 
less heard  me  blunder  into  the  wall,  and  thought  one  of 
the  marshal's  men  had  followed  him.  This  idea  sug- 
gested he  would  probably  then  lay  perfectly  still  and 
wait  for  the  man  to  recover  and  go  out.  Or,  the  thought 
made  me  shiver — he  might  steal  up  and  finish  me  with 
the  dagger.  As  quietly  as  I  could  I  loosened  my  own 
knife  in  its  sheath  and  got  it  well  in  hand.  In  spite  of 
all  the  caution  I  used,  the  sheath  rattled  against  a 
buckle.  I  knew  my  position  was  betrayed.  I  thought 
then  to  reach  a  corner  where  I  could  the  better  protect 
myself  against  a  stealthy  attack. 

Immediately  overhead  an  almost  indistinguishable 
blur  marked  a  high,  square  window,  some  seven  feet 
from  the  floor.  There  was  but  one.  In  all  probability 
the  door  lay  directly  opposite.  That  being  true,  the 
natural  inclination  of  a  man  flying  down  the  hall  in  the 
direction  we  came  would  be  to  go  further  to  the  right. 
Reasoning  in  this  wise,  hoping  to  avoid  a  struggle  with 
Broussard  in  the  dark,  I  edged  my  way  along  the  wall 
toward  the  left.  Inch  by  inch  I  went,  holding  my 
sword  extended  at  arm's  length  in  front  of  me,  and  lift- 
ing each  foot  carefully  to  avoid  the  scraping.  Every 
few  feet  I  made  a  complete  sweep  in  all  directions  with 
my  blade,  to  guard  against  approach.  Proceeding  in 
this  way,  I  felt  my  sword's  point  at  length  touch  some- 
thing— something  soft.  Before  I  had  time  to  wonder 
what  it  was,  the  sharp  hiss  of  a  blade  cut  close  to  my 


108  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

cheek,  and  struck  clanging  against  the  wall.  I  sprang 
back  beyond  reach. 

"Broussard,"  and  in  the  extreme  excitement  I  spoke 
his  name  unwittingly,  "Broussard,  stand  still;  I  had 
no  thought  to  attack  you.  Stay  where  you  are,  and  I 
will  seek  another  place." 

There  came  a  voice,  "Who  are  you  to  call  me  Brous- 
sard?" but  I  answered  not. 

In  the  absence  of  any  preparation  for  assault,  I  took 
it  that  he  would  remain  where  he  was.  Thereupon  I 
backed  into  the  diagonal  corner,  and  stood  stock  still. 

After  some  period — hours  or  minutes,  I  knew  not 
what,  they  were  interminable — Broussard  spoke  again. 
His  voice  sounded  sharp,  and  unnaturally  loud. 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  want?  I  know  you; 
is  it  Nortier,  Lireux?" 

"Hush,  fool;  dost  not  hear  the  tread  of  Vauban's 
men  outside?  You  will  call  them  down  upon  us  with 
your  babble."  They  were  stamping  through  the  pas- 
sage as  I  spoke. 

"Ah ! "  and  there  was  a  world  of  relief  and  incredulity 
in  his  lowered  tone.  "Then  you  are  not  with  Vauban? 
Who  are  you?"  I  made  no  reply. 

During  the  long  period  of  absolute  and  profound  si- 
lence which  succeeded  I  had  much  time  to  reflect.  I 
judged  myself  to  be  in  an  unused  chamber,  which,  if 
square,  would  be  about  thirty  feet  across — calculating  by 
the  distance  from  the  diagonal  corner — if  in  fact  Brous- 
sard lay  in  the  corner.  There  was  but  one  opening,  for 
I  could  hear  the  wind  stirring  outside,  and  no  draught 


IN  THE  HOUSE  OF  BERTRAND        IO9 

came  in.  Did  the  window  open  on  the  street,  or  on  an 
inner  court?  There  was  no  way  of  telling. 

If  it  be  true  that  men  live  in  thoughts  rather  than  in 
deeds,  if  the  changing  phantoms  of  our  brain  carve 
deeper  impressions  than  the  petty  part  we  play  with 
our  hands,  then,  indeed,  that  frightful  night  would  form 
by  far  the  longest  chapter  in  the  history  of  my  soul. 

Darkness,  darkness,  darkness;  quivering,  soundless, 
hopeless  night. 

I  feared  to  move,  and  no  sense  save  that  of  hearing 
bound  me  to  the  world  of  living  men.  Living  men? 
What  place  had  I  among  them? 

A  party  of  drunken  roisterers  staggered  beneath  the 
window,  singing  coarse  songs  and  bandying  their  brutal 
jests.  But  it  no  longer  interested  me  to  know  the  win- 
dow opened  on  a  street, 

Hour  after  hour  plodded  in  slow  procession  through 
the  night. 

Outside,  a  clattering  vehicle  whipped  past  over  the 
rough  stones,  the  driver  swearing  at  his  team.  The 
day  was  coming  at  last.  Did  I  wish  it?  Perhaps  the 
night  were  kinder,  for  it  at  least  obscured  my  misery.  I 
almost  prayed  the  darkness  might  last. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE   DAWN  AND  THE   DUSK 


RADUALLY,  so  gradually  the  change  could  hardly 
be  observed,  the  inner  grating  of  the  window  be- 
came visible  ;  the  chinks  between  the  edges  of  the  stones 
assumed  distinctness.  A  ghostly  blotch  grew  into  a  fact 
upon  the  floor.  A  leaden  hue,  less  black  than  the 
pulsing  sea  of  ink  about  it,  spread  and  spread,  lighter 
and  lighter,  until  it  invaded  the  dim  recesses  where  I 
stood.  My  hand  became  once  more  a  tangible  posses- 
sion, unreal  and  grim,  yet  all  my  own.  The  opposite 
wall  loomed  up,  my  utmost  frontier  of  the  domain  of 
certainty.  Dimmer,  darker,  more  obscure,  the  door,  a 
vast  unexplored  cavern  gathered  to  itself  the  hobgoblins 
of  evil  and  gave  them  shelter.  As  still  as  the  creeping 
on  of  day  we  two  men  stood,  glaring  at  each  other  and 
watched  it  come. 

Exactly  when  I  began  to  see  him  I  could  not  say. 
Every  impulse  and  vital  force  of  nature  centered  in  my 
eyes,  and  they  fastened  themselves  upon  that  one  irreg- 
ular shadow  in  the  opposing  corner  which  slowly  —  oh  ! 
with  such  agonizing  slowness  —  assumed  the  outlines  of 
a  man.  My  fascinated  gaze  wandered  not  nor  wearied. 
When  in  the  moist  light  of  the  morning  I  clearly  saw 
(no) 


THE   DAWN   AND   THE   DUSK  III 

Broussard,  haggard,  pale  and  sunken-eyed,  watching 
me  thirty  feet  away,  it  seemed  that  I  had  seen  him  all 
the  night. 

No  detail  of  his  dress  or  manner  but  I  observed.  There 
was  a  scar  across  his  forehead,  fresh  and  bleeding  a  bit.  A 
contusion  rather.  He  had  probably  struck  the  door-facing 
as  he  rushed  in.  Yes,  it  bled.  A  few  drops  had  trickled 
down  his  nose ;  there  hung  one,  quite  dry,  from  his  brow. 
Precisely  beneath  this  there  were  some  dozen  or  so  upon  the 
floor.  All  could  have  been  covered  by  my  hand.  Like  my- 
self Broussard  had  not  moved  throughout  that  awful  night. 
God,  how  I  pitied  him.  With  such  a  weight  of  treason 
on  his  soul.  And  yet,  looking  back,  the  night  was  less 
awful  than  the  coming  day,  far  more  merciful  than  the 
hideous  night  which  followed  it.  With  the  sun  Brous- 
sard heartened  up,  and  first  broke  the  silence. 

"Who  are  you  comrade,  and  what  do  you  here?" 

I  was  at  a  loss  for  reply.  I  had  no  faith  in  him,  yet 
even  a  rotten  stick  might  serve  to  get  me  out. 

"I  am  trapped  like  yourself,  and  feared  you  all  the 
night.  God  in  Heaven  what  a  long  night  it  was." 

Broussard  had  no  words,  his  convulsive  shudder  ex- 
pressed more  than  mine. 

"Do  you  know  how  to  get  out  of  here?"  I  asked. 

"Not  I,  except  by  the  door,  or  the  window,"  looking 
at  that. 

"I'll  try  the  door,"  he  continued,  smiling  the  treach- 
erous smile  of  the  tiger.  I  remembered  so  well  the 
first  day  he  showed  his  teeth  aboard  ship.  The  man 


112  THE   BLACK    WOLF'S    BREED 

y 

well  knew  I  recognized  him,  he  had  heard  me  speak  his 
name,  and  I  feared  if  he  found  the  door  open  he  would 
shut  me  up  again,  and  escape. 

"I'll  test  the  door  softly  and  see  what  is  outside," 
and  he  moved  as  if  to  put  his  thought  in  action. 

"Hold  on,  not  yet;  methinks  I'll  try  that  door  my- 
self." I  could  see  he  had  the  same  idea  which  had  oc- 
curred to  me,  for  he  demurred.  . 

"No,  my  fine  sir;  why  you  and  not  I?" 

"Because  I  know  you,  sir,  and  fear  to  trust  you." 

"Verily,  you  have  honorable  intentions  yourself  to 
suspect  me  so  readily."  He  was  bent  on  engaging 
me  in  conversation,  so  he  might  perhaps  recognize  me 
from  my  voice.  The  mask  still  hid  my  features,  and 
the  entire  difference  in  my  mode  of  dress  made  recogni- 
tion almost  impossible.  The  puzzled  expression  of  a 
half  recollection  still  rested  on  his  face  as  I  continued : 

"I  do  not  merely  suspect  you,  I  know  you  for  a 
traitor — nay  do  not  clap  your  hand  upon  your  sword 
until  I  have  finished.  You  have  now  in  your  possession 
certain  traitorous  dispatches  which  were  given  you  by 
one  Carne  Yvard  in  exchange  for  others  which  you 
brought  over  with  you  in  a  vessel  called  le  Dauphin. 
Ah,  you  begin  to  pale  and  shrink,  and  well  you  may — " 

"You  lie!"  he  shrieked,  convincing  me  I  had  made 
a  home  thrust. 

"Softly,  softly,  have  a  care,  lest  you  call  the  Marshal's 
bloodhounds  down  upon  us.  The  dispatches  with  the 
purple  seals,  which  you  brought  with  such  care  from 
Biloxi,  have  been  taken  from  Yvard,  and  are  now  in 


THE   DAWN   AND   THE   DUSK  113 

safe  keeping  for  the  King.  The  lie,  ah,  well,  I'll 
pardon  that  for  the  while.  You  can  not  leave  here,  and 
I  have  ample  time  for  avenging  my  honor  after  I  have 
had  the  pleasure  of  your  delightful  conversation." 

He  leaned  morosely  against  the  wall,  staring  at  me, 
as  I  went  on. 

"Now  listen  to  me  quietly.  You  have  those  dis- 
patches upon  your  person.  I  want  them,  and  by  all  the 
gods  I  will  have  them.  If  I  have  to  kill  you  for  them, 
then  so  much  the  worse  for  you.  Now  listen.  Give 
me  those  dispatches.  We  will  then  get  out  of  here  to- 
gether, and  once  outside,  I  will  give  you  full  four  and 
twenty  hours.  That  time  elapsed,  I  will  turn  the  dis- 
patches over  to  the  authorities.  If  you  can  escape  with 
your  miserable  life  so  be  it.  Do  you  agree?" 

"I  have  no  dispatches,"  he  sullenly  replied,  "and  who 
are  you  to  dare  charge  me  with  treason?" 

There  was  no  ring  of  real  resentment  in  his  tones, 
though  he  strove  manfully  to  simulate  offended  and  in- 
dignant innocence.  It  was  necessary  to  keep  him  in 
ignorance  for  a  while,  because  I  feared  he  might  set 
upon  me,  and  being  really  an  excellent  swordsman,  the 
issue  of  conflict  would  be  doubtful.  But  the  weightier 
reason  lay  in  the  fact  that  the  clash  of  steel  might  draw 
down  upon  us  the  occupants  of  the  house.  Here  I  was 
in  a  much  worse  plight  than  he,  though  he  knew  it  not. 
For  whether  those  occupants  were  the  friends  of  Brous- 
sard  or  the  Marshal's  men,  the  result  would  be  equally 
fatal  to  me.  A  man  must  think  quickly  under  such  straits, 
8— BLACK  WOLF 


114  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

and  I  was  sorely  put  to  it  for  some  device.  No  stratagem 
would  be  too  base  to  use  against  such  a  villain,  for  he 
would  not  hesitate  to  knife  me  in  the  back. 

"Broussard,  let  us  understand  each  other  here  and 
now.  You  know  me.  I  am  Placide  de  Mouret,"  re- 
moving my  mask  and  looking  him  sternly  in  the  eye. 

"Great  God,  de  Mouret!" 

"The  same.  I  am  your  master  at  the  swords,  and  you 
know  it.  Now  turn  out  those  papers."  I  had  been 
quietly  drawing  my  blade  during  this  speech,  as  the 
dazed  man  tried  to  collect  his  senses,  so  I  was  ready 
while  he  still  stood  unprepared. 

"Throw  up  your  hands." 

He  mechanically  obeyed ;  the  discovery  of  his  vil- 
lainy had  completely  unmanned  him. 

'  'Now  unbuckle  your  belt,  and  drop  it  to  the  ground. ' ' 
He  did  as  he  was  bid. 

"Kick  it  across  the  floor."  The  weapon  was  tossed 
out  of  his  reach. 

I  walked  up  closer  to  him,  and  forced  him  to  loose 
his  coat  that  I  might  find  the  papers,  and  was  re- 
warded by  the  discovery  of  a  packet,  much  similar  to 
that  dropped  by  Yvard.  It  was  sealed  in  such  a  man- 
ner it  could  not  be  opened,  and  bore  no  address.  I  re- 
moved the  dagger  frorrUiis  hip,  and  having,  as  I  thought, 
completely  disarmed  him,  felt  no  further  uneasiness.  The 
man  was  thoroughly  cowed,  and  never  once  raised  his  eyes 
to  mine.  Verily  treason  doth  rob  the  stoutest  heart  of 
half  its  courage. 

"Now  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  I  will  keep  my  promise  to 


THE  DAWN  AND  THE  DUSK         II 5 

let  you  go.  And  mind  that  you  make  not  the  slightest 
sound  which  may  attract  the  soldiers." 

"Ah,  you  fear  the  soldiers  too?  "  he  asked,  vaguely 
trying  to  puzzle  out  why  I  should  be  afraid  of  those  in 
whose  service  I  was. 

"It  is  not  to  our  purpose  to  talk.  I  simply  want  the 
credit  myself,  and  do  not  want  to  share  it  with  those 
fellows  out  there.  We  must  work  to  leave  this  place  at 
once.  Do  you  stand  where  you  are." 

I  gathered  up  the  scattered  weapons  and  piled  them 
all  in  one  corner,  farthest  from  the  door,  where  I  now 
proposed  to  set  about  getting  free.  With  the  fearful 
blight  of  uncovered  treason  in  his  soul,  Broussard  obeyed 
me  cringingly  as  a  servant,  and  worked  as  hard,  for  his 
safety  lay  in  mine.  We  went  first  to  the  door  by  which 
we  entered,  and  after  a  tedious  examination  failed  to 
find  any  means  by  which  it  could  be  opened  or  broken 
down.  A  stout  latch,  of  some  pattern  we  could  not  tell, 
held  it  fast  from  the  outside.  There  was  no  catch  or 
fastening  of  any  sort  within.  The  age-hardened  oak, 
studded  as  it  was  with  heavily  wrought  nails,  forbade 
the  plan  of  cutting  through.  This  would  require  days 
and  days  of  patient  labor,  and  I  was  already  faint  from 
lack  of  food  and  the  exhaustion  of  the  night.  Plainly 
the  room  was  intended  for  a  prison,  and  as  such  it  served 
well  its  purpose.  Baffled  and  disheartened  I  turned  my 
thought  to  the  window.  It  looked  out  upon  the  street ; 
this  was  so  much  in  my  favor.  The  irons  that  guarded 
it  were  close  set,  bending  out  toward  the  street  in  the 
shape  of  a  bow.  I  judged  this  was  in  order  that  archers 


Il6  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

stationed  there  might  shoot  the  more  easily  into  the 
street  in  times  of  siege. 

I  could  have  reached  this  without  trouble,  but  I  de- 
sired to  employ  Broussard,  that  I  might  know  where  he 
was  and  prevent  treachery.  For  that  double  purpose  I 
reached  up  and  grasped  the  sill,  commanding  him  to 
catch  me  about  the  knees  and  lift  so  I  might  see  out. 
This  he  did.  While  in  that  position  he  made  a  pretense 
of  shifting  his  hold,  and  something  impelled  me  to 
glance  downward  at  him.  He  was  stealthily  drawing  a 
concealed  knife  from  his  bosom.  I  threw  all  my  weight 
back  upon  him,  casting  the  twain  of  us  together  to  the 
floor.  Meantime  he  had  the  knife  full  drawn,  in  his  left 
hand  held  at  my  breast. 

I  grappled  with  him,  holding  his  left  hand  in  my  right, 
and  with  the  free  hand  clutched  him  by  the  throat,  burying 
my  thumb  deep  in  his  wind-pipe.  Instinctively  he 
raised  both  hands  to  protect  his  throat,  and  then  we 
struggled  to  our  feet.  He  made  futile  efforts  to  strike 
me  with  the  knife,  bur  his  strength  deserted  him  with 
his  wind.  The  blade  dropped  clattering  on  the  floor. 
My  other  hand  closed  about  his  neck,  circling  it  with  an 
unyielding  collar  of  steel.  Desperately  as  a  caged  rat 
might  fight  he  squirmed  and  twisted  in  my  grasp.  To 
no  avail. 

Tigerish  now,  as  though  I  held  a  rabid  dog,  I  thrust 
him  back  against  the  wall,  and  there  rigidly  held  him 
fast.  In  merciless  silence  I  listened  to  the  precious 
breath  gurgling  from  his  body ;  a  reddish  froth  gathered 
at  the  lips.  I  could  feel  his  hot  blood  surge  and  beat 


THE  DAWN  AND  THE  DUSK         1 1/ 

against  my  thumb  under  that  deadly  pressure.  The 
cold  sweat  stood  in  clammy  clusters  upon  his  forehead ; 
his  head  thrown  back,  the  eyes  turned  toward  the  ceil- 
ing no  longer  pleaded  into  mine.  I  sickened  almost  at 
sight  of  the  tongue  swelling  black,  which  seemed  to 
consume  all  the  fleeing  color  from  lips  and  face.  Oh  God, 
how  he  struggled !  His  hands  closed  over  mine  as  bars 
of  steel  to  tear  them  from  his  throat. 

Even  in  our  mortal  strife  I  marked  the  eternal  har- 
mony of  the  scene.  Truly  death  had  never  stage  more 
fitting  whereon  to  play  its  last  stern  drama  of  dissolu- 
tion. Hemmed  in  by  four  massive  walls  of  granite, 
ghastly  grim  and  desolately  gray,  we  wrestled  in  a 
stifling  stillness,  while  hell  stood  umpire  at  the  game. 
No  sound  of  trumpet,  no  warlike  cry,  no  strains  of 
martial  music  were  there  to  thrill  the  nerves  and  taunt 
men  on  to  glory.  We  fought  to  the  scrape  and  scratch 
of  shuffling  feet,  the  labored  gasp,  the  rattle  in  the 
throat,  while  echo  hushed  in  silence  and  in  fright. 

He  grew  more  quiet,  his  muscles  stiffened  and  re- 
laxed— he  was  no  longer  conscious.  A  few  more  con- 
vulsive quivers,  as  a  serpent  might  writhe  and  jerk, 
then  he  hung,  a  limp  dead  thing,  in  my  hands.  My 
outstretched  arms  seemed  made  as  a  gibbet,  feeling  no 
fatigue,  so  lightly  did  they  sustain  him.  Cords  of  brass 
could  be  no  more  tense  than  mine ;  his  weight  was  as 
nothing.  Softly  I  eased  him  down,  and  composed  his 
limbs  in  decent  order  upon  the  stones. 

Then  I  rose,  and   gazed  complacently  at  my  work. 


Il8  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Yes,  it  was  well  done,  excellently  done,  in  fact.  The 
most  expert  strangler  of  the  Choctows  could  have  done 
no  better.  Those  purpling  lines  about  the  throat,  those 
darker  clots  where  my  thumbs  had  left  their  signs,  could 
not  have  been  more  intelligently  placed.  I  smiled  my 
satisfaction  at  the  job,  then — then — my  own  overstrung 
nerves  gave  way,  and  I  fell  unconscious  across  the  corpse 
of  my  hands'  creation. 

When  I  came  to  myself  I  was  weeping,  weeping  as  a 
child  might  weep,  over  the  dead,  distorted  face  of  him  I 
had  loved.  How  long  this  lasted  I  had  no  means  of 
knowing.  Uncompromising  necessity  forced  me  to  ac- 
tion; forbade  me  time  to  dream. 

The  body  being  in  my  way  where  it  lay — for  I  pro- 
posed now  to  work  in  earnest  at  the  window — I  moved 
it  tenderly  as  possible  across  the  floor  and  stretched 
him  out  near  the  door  sill.  Springing  up  then  I  attacked 
the  bars  at  the  window.  Hours  and  hours  I  labored, 
impelled  to  greater  effort  by  the  dread  of  spending  an- 
other night  in  that  room  of  murder.  I  was  patient,  too, 
patient  with  the  cunning  of  a  maniac. 

The  dagger  made  my  chisel ;  my  sword,  wrapped  in 
a  cloth  to  muffle  the  strokes,  furnished  me  a  maul.  Full 
half  the  day  was  before  me.  The  rough  paving  stones 
below  held  out  the  hope  of  escape  or  death.  How  to 
reach  the  street  after  the  bars  were  removed,  I  did  not 
suffer  myself  to  consider.  I  should  go  mad  if  I  lay  idle. 
I  leaned  as  far  out  the  window  as  the  grating  would  al- 
low, and  observed  a  guard  standing  in  plain  view  at  the 


'  Then  I  rose,  and  gazed  at  my  work."    p.  117- 


THE  DAWN  AND  THE  DUSK         1 19 

corner.  It  was  very  evident  the  Provost  of  Paris  had 
taken  possession  of  the  house,  and  there  was  little  use  in 
my  trying  to  make  a  way  out  the  door. 

I  bitterly  resented  the  intrusion  of  every  passenger 
along  the  street,  and  scanned  with  hatred  the  few  who 
came.  For  while  they  remained  in  hearing  I  was 
obliged  to  cease  my  chipping  at  the  masonry  and  leaden 
cement  which  held  my  freedom.  I  bided  my  time,  and, 
long  before  the  shadow  of  the  house  across  the  way  had 
climbed  to  the  window  where  I  worked,  had  the  grati- 
fication of  finding  a  bar  give  way  in  my  hands,  and 
found  I  could  take  it  out.  Removing  this  bar,  it  gave 
me  a  powerful  leverage  on  the  others,  and  by  exerting 
all  my  strength,  succeeded  in  bending  the  two  on  either 
side  to  such  a  degree  I  could  force  my  body  between. 

While  thus  engaged,  my  eyes  were  ever  fixed  anx- 
iously upon  the  street,  in  the  hope  that  Jerome  might 
pursue  his  plan  of  watching  the  house,  and  I  would 
catch  sight  of  him.  The  passers-by  were  few  indeed, 
but  somehow  it  struck  me  that  the  same  persons  passed 
several  times,  and  in  something  like  regular  order.  A 
patrol  of  Jerome's?  My  heart  bounded  at  the  thought. 
I  watched  more  carefully ;  yes,  it  was  true.  I  counted  five 
different  persons ;  some  walked  fast,  some  walked  slow, 
but  all  looked  about  them  and  inspected  the  house  with 
more  than  an  ordinary  glance.  And,  no,  I  was  not 
mistaken,  that  simple-looking  countryman  yonder  was 
Jerome. 

I  was  quite  at  a  loss  how  to  attract  his  attention;  I 
feared  to  yell,  lest  that  give  notice  to  the  sentry.  I  took 


120  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

a  spur  from  my  heel  and  dropped  it  directly  in  front  oi 
him;  I  knew  he  would  recognize  it,  for  it  was  his  own, 
loaned  to  me  for  my  more  fashionable  appearance.  He 
heard  the  jingle  and  glanced  around.  His  hat  blew  off 
as  if  by  accident  and  fell  near  the  spur.  In  stooping  to 
pick  it  up,  the  spur  also  found  its  way  into  his  hand 
beneath  the  hat.  He  was  truly  a  quick-witted  gentle- 
man, and  I  forgave  him  from  my  heart  all  his  chaff  in 
the  matter  of  teaching  me  manners.  It  took  him  not 
a  great  while  to  comprehend,  and  taking  note  of  the 
situation  of  my  window,  he  sauntered  off.  Thence 
forward  only  three  men  passed  by  the  house,  at  much 
longer  intervals.  He  had  taken  one  with  him,  and  I  was 
left  to  surmise  in  what  method  they  purposed  to  effect 
my  deliverance.  I  made  myself  almost  merry.  The  long 
labor  at  the  window  had  cramped  my  limbs  to  such  a 
degree  it  pained  me  to  move.  I  clambered  down  and 
took  a  few  turns  about  the  room  as  if  I  had  naught  to 
do  but  exercise.  But  at  every  turn  the  hideous  face  and 
whitened  eyes  of  Broussard  dogged  my  footsteps  as  a 
spectre.  Look  where  I  would,  it  was  only  that  I  saw. 
Hour  after  hour  crawled  by.  Jerome  would  wait  for 
night.  Night! 

Did  he  but  know  what  lurking  horrors  filled  the  dis- 
mal hours  for  me,  he  would  come  soon.  By  some  fatal- 
ity I  had  drawn  the  body  directly  to  the  spot  where  the 
last  fading  shafts  of  light  would  hover  about  its  face. 
Not  for  a  paradise  of  peace  would  I  touch  the  loathsome 
thing  again  to  hide  it  in  the  shadows.  I  could  neither 
take  my  eyes  from  it  nor  put  my  hands  upon  it.  Like 


THE  DAWN  AND  THE  DUSK         121 

the  basilisk  of  fable  it  held  my  gaze  charmed,  fixed  it, 
bound  it  fast.  Crouch  as  I  might  in  the  remotest  corner, 
cover  my  face  in  my  mantle,  still  that  searching,  penetrat- 
ing thing  pierced  all  obstacles,  glared  grisly  and  distinct 
before  me. 

I  tried  to  throw  off  the  thought  which  now  constantly 
recurred.  What  if  Jerome  did  not  come?  Would  I 
starve  here  in  company  with  this  corrupting  flesh?  No, 
there  was  the  window ;  a  headlong  dash  from  that  would 
bring  death  and  release.  So  I  determined.  Then  came 
on  the  night.  To  me  it  brought  no  rest,  no  sweet  sur- 
cease of  the  labors  through  the  day. 

Somewhere,  afar  off  in  the  city,  there  rang  a  tremu- 
lous bell,  launching  its  vibrations  upon  the  infinite 
silence  as  a  sinner's  guilty  soul  might  trembling  stand 
in  the  presence  of  Almighty  condemnation.  The  mel- 
ancholy howl  of  a  dog  at  first  cleft  through  every  nerve 
and  fibre  of  my  being,  thrilling  with  a  creeping  chill  of 
horror.  So  regular  did  it  come,  so  unvaried,  I  grew  to 
count  the  seconds  under  my  breath,  and  to  note  its 
monotonous  precision.  Somehow  this  occupation  in  a 
measure  relieved  me,  and  when  the  howls  came  more 
infrequently  and  at  less  well  defined  intervals,  I  men- 
tally resented  the  change.  Time  had  ceased  to  be.  I 
cowered  in  the  corner  with  naught  but  death  and  fear 
and  darkness  to  keep  me  company. 


CHAPTER  XII 

FLORINE  TO  THE  RESCUE 

A  SHROUD  of  consuming  terror  now  possessed  me. 
I  crouched  in  the  dank  corner  clutching  my  sword, 
listening,  vainly  listening,  for  some  sound  out  of  which 
to  conjure  up  an  assassin.  A  rat  ran  across  my  foot. 
Screaming  out  I  bounded  erect  and  beat  about  me  with 
blind  desperation.  One  hand  touched  the  other  and 
shrank  from  its  mate.  They  were  as  ice. 

Oh,  God,  the  horrid  silence!  How  weightily  it  bore 
upon  me,  stripping  me  of  voice,  of  courage  and  of  hope. 
How  many,  many  times  I  braced  myself  against  the  wall, 
cold  with  fear  at  the  apprehension  of  an  attack  by  some 
demon  of  the  night.  How  many,  many  times  I  sank 
again  into  the  same  dumb  misery  when  no  enemy  ap- 
peared to  do  me  hurt. 

So  long  it  had  been  since  the  tones  of  human  speech 
blessed  my  ears,  I  almost  hoped  the  marshal's  men 
might  come,  that  I  might  hear  his  stern  command, 
"Hang  him  to  yonder  window  ledge."  A  rasping 
thirst  roasted  my  throat  until  my  tongue  gritted  and 
ground  as  a  rusted  clapper  in  a  bell.  I  touched  it  with 
my  hand.  It  was  as  dry  as  Broussard's. 

(122) 


FLORINE  TO   THE   RESCUE  123 

Broussard !  A  quiver  in  the  musty  air  set  me  all  a 
shudder ;  in  every  rustle  I  felt  again  the  last  convulsions 
of  the  dead.  Dull  lights  gathered  when  I  closed  my 
eyes,  and  rested  upon  his  swollen  features,  their  white 
eyes  following  me  in  hate. 

Coolly  and  logically  as  if  it  concerned  someone  else, 
the  reason  of  it  all  crept  into  my  morbid  brain.  I  was 
mad ;  mad  from  hunger,  thirst  and  terror.  Yes,  mad, 
and  felt  not  one  whit  sorry  of  it;  nay,  rejoiced  rather, 
for  it  meant  a  freedom  of  the  spirit.  So  insidiously 
this  knowledge  forced  itself  upon  me,  it  brought  no 
shock,  I  even  dimly  wondered  that  any  other  condition 
ever  existed.  Verily,  men  are  happier  for  a  gentle 
frenzy.  Then,  indeed,  are  all  things  leveled,  all  bar- 
riers removed.  Gone  were  all  my  pigmy  troubles,  van- 
ished into  nothingness.  Engulfed  in  a  common  ruin  lay 
all  fragments  of  desire;  the  search  for  reward,  the  dread 
of  punishment — all  petty  figments  of  the  imagination 
were  powerful  now  no  more.  The  fall  of  reason  crushed 
every  human  hope  and  dulled  the  edge  of  every  human 
fear.  What  cared  I  now  for  food,  for  water;  for  honor 
or  for  shame?  My  mind,  imperial  and  freeirom  artifi- 
cial restraints,  plunged  riotously  into  forbidden  realms. 
I  reveled  in  the  exaltation  of  chainless  thought,  and 
drank  from  the  deepest  wells  of  rebellion  delicious 
draughts  of  secret  sin,  thanking,  yea  thanking,  this 
sweet  madness  which  gave  a  glorious  independence. 

What  repugnance  had  I  now  for  yon  piece  of  foul 
and  rotting  carrion!  What  mattered  if  but  lately  a 
breathing  man  it  had  strangled  in  my  grip.  By  the 


124  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

gods,  a  knightly  feat  and  most  bravely  done!  And  I 
laughed  at  my  former  fear,  not  loud,  but  such  as  laughed 
the  fiends  of  hell  when  Lucifer  rose  against  his  Prince. 
Low  I  chuckled,  then  shivered  at  my  own  unnatural 
voice. 

Dead  now  to  every  sense  of  physical  loathing  I  ad- 
vanced steadfastly  towards  where  he  lay.  Shorn  of 
human  companions  my  wretchedness  sought  a  lonely 
comradeship  with  the  piece  of  mortal  clay.  Turning 
now  and  again  to  beat  back  some  skinny  hand  which 
snatched  my  garments,  to  slap  in  the  face  some  evil 
sprite  which  thrust  its  sneer  upon  me,  I  walked  in  reso- 
lution across  the  floor.  I  fancied  again  I  heard  the 
tread  of  men  in  the  passage.  Pleased  at  the  babble  of 
the  children  of  my  own  imagination,  I  stood  to  listen. 
Yes,  by  the  wit  of  a  fool,  I'll  indulge  the  jest,  a  joyous 
jibe  and  a  merry. 

The  low  shuffle  of  cautious  feet  came  again.  The 
latch  clanked  ever  so  softly  as  if  some  hand  without 
lifted  it  gently,  oh  so  gently  raised  it.  "Ha!  there  you  are, 
seeking  to  frighten  me  again,  but  I  know  you  well.  No, 
no,  you'll  scare  me  no  more;  I'll  play  a  merry  game 
with  you."  So  I  hid  myself  in  the  dark,  and  thought  to 
play  a  prank  upon  the  evil  Thing.  Held  my  breath. 

Elated  to  find  I  owned  so  wondrously  fertile  a  brain  I 
saw  the  door  open  little  by  little  without  a  creak.  A 
current  of  liberated  air  brushed  by  my  cheek.  So  real 
it  was,  I  smiled.  The  door  swung  wider  and  wider  yet, 
in  the  dark  I  saw  it.  Verily  the  sight  of  a  madman  is 
sharp.  The  wind  blew  more  chill  and  strong.  I  saw  a 


FLORINE   TO   THE   RESCUE  12$ 

gleam  peeping  beneath  a  cloak  as  from  a  hidden  Ian- 
thorn  ;  I  bethought  me  I  would  catch  the  tiny  wanderer 
from  the  floor  and  hold  it  in  my  hand.  It  came  crawl- 
ing and  crawling,  on  and  on,  wavering  to  my  feet.  So 
many  times  that  night  had  I  manned  myself  valiantly  to 
fight  a  shadow,  I  only  laughed  in  silence  and  contempt 
at  this. 

Behold  the  folly  of  a  madman's  thought.  Yet  the 
creation  of  it  all  gave  me  exquisite  pleasure,  as  a  child 
might  find  delight  in  some  strange  toy  from  which  it 
could  call  weird  shapes  at  will.  On  it  moved  with  a 
noiseless,  gliding  motion;  now  inside  the  door,  now 
coming,  coming,  coming — nearly  to  me.  Now  it  let 
fall  a  timorous  blade  of  light  along  the  floor.  It  reached 
Broussard's  body.  Its  foot  struck  him.  It  stooped, 
threw  the  light  full  upon  him.  Open  fell  the  concealing 
mantle,  showing  the  barren  stones,  the  corpse,  the 
ghastly  upturned  face  of  the  strangled  man. 

The  woman — for  it  was  a  woman — dropped  to  her 
knees  beside  him,  called  him,  felt  of  his  clammy  head, 
and  suffered  but  a  single  scream  of  swift  affright  to 
leave  her  lips.  From  the  unhooded  lanthorn  burst  out 
a  spreading  yellow  glow.  Her  scream  awoke  me  to  a 
consciousness  of  reality.  From  my  own  unlocked  tongue 
of  terror  came  its  answer.  I  joined  my  voice  to  hers, 
defied  the  hush  of  slumbering  centuries  and  filled  that 
quaking  room  with  a  perfect  deluge  of  reverberating 
shrieks.  Many  others,  men,  with  cloaks,  some  having 
lights,  some  none,  rushed  in  behind  the  woman.  From 
that  time  I  knew  nothing. 


126  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 


I  awakened  from  a  dreamy  languor;  a  subtle  essence 
of  perfume  floated  through  my  senses.  A  gentle  touch 
of  some  kindly  hand  was  bathing  my  temples.  Fearful 
lest  this  sweet  illusion  vanish  with  the  others,  I  kept  my 
eyes  firmly  closed,  and  soon  abandoned  myself  wholly 
to  the  subduing  influences  of  natural  slumber. 

"Has  he  stirred,  Florine?" 

"No,  Monsieur,  but  his  head  is  cooler  now — he 
sleeps,  hush !  Perhaps  another  day  he  will  be  better. 
How  he  raved  through  the  night.  Poor,  young  gentle- 
man, he  quite  exhausted  himself." 

"Ah,  well,  Florine,  he  is  young,  and  with  such  nurses 
as  thou  and  Nannette  he  will  of  a  surety  recover." 

I  turned  my  head  and  smiled  a  feeble  recognition  of 
Jerome  and  Florine.  The  other  woman  I  had  never 
seen;  she  was  much  older  than  Florine  and  had  a  kind, 
motherly  face. 

"What  day  is  it?" 

"The  morning  of  Sunday." 

It  was  Wednesday  night  when  Jerome  and  I  went  to 
the  ball. 

I  looked  about  me.  The  lodgings  were  those  I  had 
taken  at  the  Austrian  Arms,  yet  much  changed  in  little 
things.  The  vase  of  flowers  there  in  the  window,  the 
neat-swept  hearth,  the  cheerful  fire,  and  that  indefinable 
something  which  gives  a  touch  of  womanliness  to  a 
room.  Florine,  perhaps. 


FLORINE  TO  THE   RESCUE  I2/ 

"Ugh!  I'm  so  glad  to  be  here,"  and  I  shuddered  at 
the  remembrance  of  my  prison  and  suffering. 

"Poor  dear,"  said  the  older  woman  in  a  voice  full  of 
sympathy,  "don't  worry;  you  are  in  comfort  now,  and 
will  soon  be  strong  again." 

"Am  I  wounded  in  any  wise?"  I  inquired,  for  I  knew 
not  the  manner  of  my  coming  there. 

"No,  no,  my  lad,"  broke  in  Jerome's  hearty  reas- 
surance, "not  a  bit,  just  worn  and  starved  out.  Truly, 
boy,  you  had  a  rough  adventure.  By  'Od's  blood,  I'd 
hate  to  have  the  like!  Has  he  taken  any  food  Florine? 

"Nothing  but  the  wine,  and  a  sup  or  two  of  broth. 
Here  is  something  for  him  now,"  and  she  brought  me 
a  most  tempting  array  of  soup,  hot  viands  and  victuals 
of  which  I  feared  to  eat  as  I  desired. 

Though  Florine  and  Jerome  would  not  permit  me  to 
disturb  myself  with  vain  conversation,  yet  by  dint  of 
questions  and  listening  when  they  talked  apart,  thinking 
I  slept,  I  found  how  it  all  came  about.  It  seems  Florine 
saw  and  recognized  me  when  I  returned  to  the  gaming 
room,  having  left  Madame  la  Princesse.  She  knew  too, 
in  some  way  which  1  did  not  learn,  that  neither  Brous- 
sard  nor  I  had  left  Bertrand's  that  night.  This,  though 
the  Provost's  men  had  been  searching  the  city  for  us 
both.  She  kept  her  knowledge  to  herself.  When  the 
turbulence  calmed  down  somewhat  and  sentries  were 
placed  to  guard  the  house,  she  occupied  herself  in  slip- 
ping about  looking  for  my  hiding  place.  It  took  but  a 
little  while  for  her,  familiar  as  she  was  with  the  house, 
to  find  the  room  where  Broussard  and  I  had  taken 


128  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

refuge.  Listening  at  the  door  she  heard  our  angry 
voices  and  the  scuffle  within.  This  may  have  been  when 
I  was  choking  him.  Horrible!  horrible! 

At  any  rate  she  feared  to  intrude,  and  at  once  set 
out  to  seek  help.  The  girl  throughout  acted  with 
astonishing  promptness  and  judgment.  Florine  had 
recognized  Madame  la  Princesse — all  Paris  knew  the 
eccentric  lady — so  went  straight  to  her.  At  first  denied 
admission  she  sent  up  a  note  couched  in  such  terms  as 
gained  for  her  an  immediate  private  interview — indeed 
the  Princess  herself  was  careful  it  should  be  strictly  pri- 
vate. 

Madame  knew  nothing  of  me  except  the  request  I 
made  concerning  Jerome,  and  sending  the  papers  to  the 
Austrian  Arms.  Florine  went  without  delay  to  that 
place.  This  was  about  midday.  Meanwhile  Jerome, 
much  troubled  that  I  did  not  appear  during  the  night, 
pursued  our  original  plan  of  watching  the  house,  and 
arranged  his  men  at  windows,  and  in  the  street,  in  such 
a  way  as  not  to  attract  attention.  One  of  them  had 
seen  me  working  at  the  window  but  never  dreamed  it 
was  I.  Jerome  found  the  house  already  doubly  guarded 
by  the  Provost's  men,  to  his  infinite  disgust.  He  was 
a  handy  chap  though,  and  not  to  be  outdone.  Dress- 
ing himself  as  a  clumsy  lout,  he  found  little  difficulty  in 
worming  the  transactions  of  the  night  before  out  of  one 
of  the  guard  off  duty.  A  drink  or  two  together  at  the 
sign  of  the  "Yellow  Flagon"  fetched  this  information. 

Jerome  was  much  wearied  through  his  long  watching 
and  anxiety  when  he  returned  to  the  Austrian  Arms. 


FLORINE  TO   THE   RESCUE  129 

The  hostler  at  the  inn  turned  him  aside  from  the  front 
door  by  a  gesture,  so  that  he  entered  by  another  way. 
Claude  acquainted  him  that  a  lady  in  the  public  room 
desired  to  speak  with  M.  Jerome  de  Greville,  and  would 
not  be  denied.  Jerome's  custom  with  visitors  was  to 
see  them  first  himself,  before  Claude  told  them  whether 
he  was  in  or  no. 

Peeping  through  an  aperture  he  saw  the  lady  walking 
impatiently  up  and  down  the  room,  tapping  at  the  win- 
dow, mending  the  fire,  and  expressing  her  haste  in 
many  other  pettish  manners  so  truly  feminine.  It  was 
Florine.  He  knew  the  girl  well  from  his  frequenting 
Bertrand's  during  this  piece  of  business.  Jerome  sent 
her  word  he  would  be  in,  and  changing  his  costume  to 
one  he  usually  wore,  presented  himself  before  her  in  the 
public  room. 

"Is  it  I  you  seek,  M.  de  Greville,  Mademoiselle?" 
he  inquired,  politely. 

"Oh!  Monsieur  de  Greville,  it  is  you;  I'm  so  glad." 
she  came  forward  with  a  pretty  air  of  perplexity  and 
surprise,  for  Florine  had  a  dainty  woman's  way  about 
her,  showing  even  through  her  present  trouble.  She 
bore  herself  more  steadily  that  she  had  not  to  deal  with 
some  severe-faced  stranger,  but  a  gallant  gentleman, 
whose  mien  was  not  that  from  which  timid  maidens  were 
prone  to  fly. 

"Oh,  Monsieur  de  Greville,  I  know  not  what  to  say, 
now  that  I  am  well  met  with  you." 

"And  by  my  faith,  Mademoiselle,  I  am  sure  no  word 
9-BLACK  WOLF 


130  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

of  mine  would  grace  those  pretty  lips  as  well  as  thine 
own  sweet  syllables.   So  /can  not  tell  you  what  to  say." 

Florine  pouted  her  dissent,  yet  was  not  in  earnest 
angered — she  was  a  woman.  Jerome  saw  her  business 
lay  deeper  than  mere  jest  and  badinage,  so  he  spoke 
her  more  seriously. 

"I  pray  you  Mademoiselle — Florine? — am  I  right? 
Be  seated." 

Florine  had  no  thought  for  gallantries ;  she  declined 
the  proffered  seat,  and,  standing,  proceeded  at  once  to 
the  point  of  her  mission, 

"There  is  a  young  gentleman  in  our  house,"  and  she 
blushed  a  little,  Jerome  declared  to  me  afterwards,  "in 
Bertrand's  wine  room — you  know  the  place?  locked  up, 
and  I  am  not  certain  whether  he  lives  or  is  dead.  I  can 
not  tell  Monsieur  his  name,  but  you  know  him.  Oh,, 
he  was  kind  to  me,  and  I  would  willingly  do  something 
to  save  him.  It  is  so  hard  to  be  only  a  woman.  The 
Provost  has  the  house  guarded." 

"I  know  it,"  Jerome  put  in  drily. 

"This  gentleman  gave  your  name  and  lodgings  to  the 
lady  who  was  with  him  there  last  night,  and  she  it  was 
who  sent  you  the  packet."  Florine  had  run  on  hur- 
riedly, unheeding  Jerome's  blank  look  of  astonishment. 
This  was  probably  a  shrewd  guess  on  her  part,  yet  it 
squarely  struck  the  mark. 

"Lady?  Sent  the  papers?  Who?  What  lady?" 
Jerome  asked  before  she  could  answer  anything. 

"That  I  must  not  tell,  Monsieur.  Oh,  come,  quick; 
get  him  away  from  there ;  if  our  people  find  him  they 


FLORINE  TO   THE   RESCUE  131 

may  do  him  harm.  Monsieur  is  a  brave  gentleman,  a 
friend  of  his,  is  it  not  true?  Come." 

Jerome  drew  the  facts  pretty  well  out  of  the  excited 
girl,  knowing  somewhat  of  the  circumstances  and  guess- 
ing the  rest — all  in  an  exceeding  short  space  of  time. 
Florine  told  him  as  accurately  as  she  could  in  what 
room  I  lay,  leaving  him  to  locate  the  window  from  the 
street.  From  this  point  the  plan  was  simple  enough. 
Jerome  and  Florine  arrived  at  Bertrand's  by  different 
routes,  Florine  passing  in  unconcernedly,  and  Jerome, 
clad  again  as  a  stupid  country  knave,  walked  by  the 
house  to  discover  my  outer  window. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  the  falling  of  the  spur  con- 
veyed to  him  the  intelligence  of  my  life  and  place  of 
confinement.  After  this  Jerome  had  to  depend  greatly 
upon  the  quick-witted  woman. 

It  would  be  a  long  story,  and  a  bootless,  were  1  to  tell 
how  it  fell  out  that  Florine  had  a  friend,  the  same  kind- 
faced  woman  who  helped  her  watch  beside  my  bed ;  the 
window  of  this  friend's  garret  room  opened  almost 
directly  opposite  Florine's  own  poor  apartment.  Only  a 
narrow,  dingy  alley  lay  between ;  so  scant  was  the  space 
the  upper  stories  came  near  to  touching  across  it. 
Florine's  friend,  after  some  tearful  persuasion,  consented 
to  aid  the  rescue  of  such  a  gallant  gentleman  as  I  was 
described  to  be.  The  girl  could  come  and  go  at  will. 
The  friend  permitted  Jerome  and  three  of  his  men  to  hide 
in  her  room.  From  her  window  Jerome  cast  a  light  cord 
into  Florine's  window,  she  drawing  a  stouter  rope  across 
with  it,  and  made  fast.  It  now  became  a  trifling  feat 


132  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

for  these  nimble  adventurers  to  swing  themselves  across 
to  Florine's  room,  but  twelve  feet  or  so  away.  Once  in- 
side Bertrand's  they  proceeded  with  abundant  caution,  all 
of  which  near  came  to  naught  through  Florine's  sudden 
shriek  and  my  own  nervous  clamor.  It  shamed  me 
heartily. 

"Truly,  comrade,  thou  hast  good  lungs,"  Jerome  told 
me  days  afterward.  "It  took  all  our  strength  to  shut  thee 
of  thy  wind." 

When  the  four  men  found  me  a  helpless  body  in  their 
hands,  they  were  greatly  troubled.  However,  Florine 
insisted  that  I  be  carried  to  her  room  where  she  could 
conceal  me. 

Once  there  they  found  means  to  truss  me  up  like  a 
bale  of  merchandise  and  sling  me  across  the  alley  again, 
whence  I  was  conveyed,  still  unconscious,  through  out- 
of-the-way  streets  to  the  Austrian  Arms. 

And  so  it  was  I  came  to  my  strength,  safe  in  my  own 
lodgings  in  Rue  St.  Denis,  with  Florine  and  her  kind- 
hearted  friend  to  nurse  me. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE   GIRL   OF  THE  WINE   SHOP 

YOUTH  and  health  do  not  long  lie  idle.  Even  while 
I  lay  recovering  my  health,  Jerome  and  I  were  busy 
with  our  plans.  Not  the  least  unforeseen  item  in  what 
had  befallen,  was  the  chance  that  carried  me  into  a  house 
where  I  saw  again  the  "black  wolf's  head,"  which 
brought  once  more  to  mind  the  history  of  the  d'Artins. 
But  there  was  still  to  come  that  other  happening,  the 
one  which  bound  my  whole  life,  heart  and  soul,  my  love 
and  happiness  forever,  in  with  the  fortunes  of  that  black 
wolf's  breed. 

As  I  grew  stronger  Jerome  and  I  had  a  long  talk.  He 
told  me  the  morning  after  I  left  him,  which  was  Thurs- 
day, a  veiled  woman  had  brought  him  a  pair  of  gaunt- 
lets, with  the  request  that  he  preserve  them  carefully. 
Jerome  naturally  wanted  to  know  who  had  sent  such  a 
present.  The  woman  answered  no  questions,  only  im- 
pressed upon  him  the  importance  of  keeping  them  him- 
self and  letting  no  one  have  them.  She  would  not  tell 
whence  she  came,  and  when  she  departed  Jerome  made 
a  sign  to  Claude,  who  followed.  He  returned  and  re- 
ported she  had  entered  the  apartments  of  Mademoiselle 
de  Chartres  by  a  private  way. 
(133) 


134  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

Verily  this  was  coming  close  to  the  King,  and  to  Or- 
leans; these  gauntlets  coming  from  the  house  of  this 
haughty  Bourbon  Princess.  One  of  the  gauntlets,  of 
course,  contained  the  papers  taken  from  Yvard,  the  same 
I  had  confided  to  Mademoiselle  la  Princesse.  I  smiled 
my  satisfaction  that  she  had  been  so  discreet. 

The  other  packet  Jerome  found  upon  me  when  I  was 
disrobed  for  bed. 

It  was  many  days  before  Jerome  asked  me  for  any 
details  of  my  imprisonment,  or  how  it  came  about  there 
was  a  dead  man  in  the  room  with  me.  I  related  the 
whole  circumstance  briefly  as  possible,  who  Broussard 
was,  and  all,  to  avoid  further  questioning.  For  I  hated 
to  dwell  upon  the  occurrences  of  that  night,  yet  ever  re- 
turned to  them  with  a  sort  of  secret  fascination. 

"You  choked  him  well,  comrade,"  was  Jerome's  only 
comment,  regarding  the  affair,  yet  I  fancied  I  saw  him 
shiver  somewhat  at  the  ghastly  recollection  of  Brous- 
sard. The  matter  being  thus  dismissed,  we  never  spoke 
of  it  again. 

Our  fire  burned  warm,  filling  the  room  with  a  home- 
like glow,  so  with  good  wine  and  clear  consciences 
Jerome  and  I  drank  and  talked  and  stretched  the  lazy 
evening  through. 

"There  is  just  one  other  thing  we  can  do,  Placide,  to 
put  the  finishing  touch  upon  our  success." 

I  turned  an  interrogative  glance  toward  the  speaker. 

"That  is  to  find  out,  if  possible,  who  is  back  of  this 
scheming.  That  fellow  Yvard,  dare-devil  though  he  is, 
has  not  brain  enough  to  concoct  such  a  plan,  even  if  he 


THE   GIRL  OF  THE  WINE   SHOP  135 

had  courage  and  energy  to  fight  it  through.  Depend 
upon  it,  some  powerful  person  is  behind  Yvard.  Most 
likely  Madame  du  Maine.  What  say  you  to  an  ad- 
venture?" 

My  blood  was  in  the  humor  for  sport,  the  wine  heated 
me  somewhat,  and  recking  not  of  consequences  I  caught 
at  his  idea. 

"Willingly,  comrade,  but  what?" 

"Let  us  to  Sceaux,  to  Madame's  court,  and  see  what 
we  may  discover,  for  two  fools  like  ourselves  might  per- 
chance stumble  blindly  upon  what  a  wise  man  would 
overlook,"  he  continued  with  mock  humility. 

"Yes,  and  two  fools  like  ourselves  might  perchance 
get  themselves  hanged  for  what  a  wise  man  would  keep 
his  skirts  clear  of.  There's  a  peril  in  meddling  with 
the  affairs  of  the  great." 

"Seriously,  now.  I  have  means  and  ways  of  learning 
things  in  Madame's  family.  My  head  has  been  fast  set 
on  this  matter  for  some  time.  If  you  agree  to  take  the 
risk  with  me,  you  should  know  how  we  are  to  act.  Now 
mind  you,"  he  pursued,  rising  and  stretching  his  back 
to  the  fire,  facing  me,  "mind  you,  I  tell  you  all  I  want 
you  to  know,  and  you  must  promise  me  to  make  no  in- 
quiries on  your  own  account." 

By  this  time  I  had  grown  accustomed  to  trust  de 
Greville,  so  I  simply  assented. 

"A  lady  you  know — it  might  get  me  into  trouble," 
he  further  explained ;  with  that  I  made  myself  content. 

Jerome  averted  his  face  as  if  he  would  first  frame 
his  speech  carefully  before  he  gave  it  me.  Here  Se- 


136  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

rigny's  final  remark  about  making  friends  of  the 
ladies  recurred  to  me,  and  I  wondered  what  this  fair 
unknown  had  to  do  with  such  a  rough  game  as  we 
played.  Before  the  hand  was  out,  though,  I  understood 
how  truly  it  had  been  said  that  women's  wits  now 
swayed  the  destinies  of  France.  Since  this  day,  too, 
our  country  has  suffered  much  through  women,  when 
under  the  next,  and  more  pliant  Louis,  they  ruled  with 
even  a  scantier  pretense  at  concealment  or  of  decency. 
Jerome  spoke  slow  and  guardedly,  when  he  turned  to 
me  again.  He  began  in  a  tone  subdued  by  the  inten- 
sity of  his  feelings — which,  as  I  soon  learned,  were  quite 
natural. 

"I  was  a  mere  lad;  I  had  a  sweetheart  whose  family 
lived  near  our  own  in  the  vicinity  of  a  certain  small 
provincial  town,  it  matters  not  where.  She,  much 
younger  than  I,  shared  all  my  childish  games.  It  was 
the  will  of  God  that  we  should  love.  My  family  was 
rich,  is  rich;  both  were  noble.  I  had  two  older  brothers 
who  stood  between  me  and  a  title  or  wealth.  Her 
parents  were  ambitious  for  her  future ;  I  was  put  aside. 
They  sent  her  away,  away  from  me,  and  married  her 
here  in  Paris  to  a  man  she  had  never  seen.  A  simple 
marriage  of  convenience,  as  we  say  here.  Her  heart  was 
numb  and  dead;  it  made  no  rebellion.  I  went  to  the 
army;  gained  nothing  but  my  rank.  My  brothers  died, 
and  I  being  the  next  heir  can  live  as  it  pleases  me. 
Here  I  am  in  Paris;  she  is  at  Sceaux,  two  leagues 
away.  I  love  her  yet,  and,  God  forgive  her,  she  loves 
me.  Her  old  husband  who  is  attached  to  the  Due 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  WINE  SHOP        137 

du  Maine  cares  nothing  for  her.  She  amuses  her- 
self half  in  idleness  with  the  intrigues  of  the  court. 
Nay  do  not  look  so  black,  Placide,  for  even  this  can  be 
innocent  enough.  There  is  much  excuse  for  her,  too, 
my  friend.  A  woman  must  needs  have  love  to  feed 
upon.  They  can  never,  like  ourselves,  fill  their  hearts 
entirely  with  ambition,  with  glory  or  with  adventure. 
Men  may  make  of  their  lives  a  cloister  or  a  camp  and 
be  content;  but  women,  whatever  else  of  gaud  and 
glitter  they  may  have,  yet  require  love  and  tender- 
ness and  gentle  sympathy  beside.  Happy  is  she  who 
receives  all  these  from  her  husband ;  and  that  husband 
treads  dangerous  ground  who  denies  it  to  her.  I  see 
your  wonder  at  hearing  this  from  me;  but  I  have 
thought  constantly  upon  such  things.  Peste!  this 
touches  not  our  business ;  let  us  go  on.  Through  this 
lady's  husband,  and  by  another  source  of  information,  I 
hope  to  find  the  truth  concerning  Yvard.  Do  you  follow 
me?" 

"Yes,  but  how?"  I  put  in.  "When  I  run  my  neck  into 
a  halter,  I  want  to  know  whose  hands  are  playing  with 
the  cord." 

"Never  fear  for  her.  Madame — that  is,  the  lady — 
has  a  firm  hold  upon  the  Due  du  Maine  himself,  in  fact 
she  is  quite  indispensable  to  him.  Don't  ask  me  for 
more.  Once  let  the  Due  be  made  Regent,  and  my  old- 
time  sweetheart  of  those  innocent  days  in  Anjou  will  be 
the  most  powerful  woman  in  France.  But  with  all  that, 
Placide,"  and  the  man's  quivering  voice  went  straight 
to  the  very  tenderest  core  of  my  heart  for  the  depths  of 


138  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

bitterness  it  contained,  "in  spite  of  it  all  she'd  rather  be 
back  in  the  country  breathing  the  pure  and  peaceful  air, 
a  guiltless  and  happy  girl,  than  to  live  as  she  does,  and 
rule  the  land.  God  knows  I  wish  we  had  never  seen 
Paris." 

I  held  my  tongue ;  there  was  nothing  I  could  say.  He 
felt  his  trouble  keenly  enough,  and  I  refrained  from 
molding  my  undesired  sympathy  into  words.  Directly, 
Jerome  took  heart  and  spoke  again : 

"Those  are  the  conditions,  I  merely  make  the  best  of 
them.  There  is  still  another  friend  of  mine  at  Sceaux, 
the  Chevalier  Charles  de  la  Mora,  a  most  gallant  sol- 
dier and  kindly  gentleman.  Verily,  they  are  scarce  now 
in  France.  He  has  fallen  into  misfortunes  of  late  and  is 
about  to  take  some  command  in  the  colonies.  I  love 
him  much,  and  am  sorely  tempted  to  cast  my  lot  with 
his.  But,  you  understand  why  I  stay,"  and  he  lifted  up 
his  hands  with  a  gesture  of  perfect  helplessness. 

"His  wife,  Madame  Agnes — almost  a  girl — is  one  of 
the  most  beautiful  and  clever  women  in  France,  and  who, 
by  way  of  novelty,  loves  her  own  husband.  Women 
are  queer  sometimes,  are  they  not?  To-morrow  we  go 
to  Sceaux ;  it  will  at  least  be  an  experience  to  you,  even 
should  nothing  good  come  of  it.  Do  you  agree?" 

My  curiosity  was  thoroughly  aroused,  and  scenting 
sport  of  a  rare  character  I  agreed  to  join  the  chase.  It 
was  judged  best  that  we  should  make  all  things  ready 
for  an  immediate  journey  to  Versailles  upon  our  return 
from  Sceaux. 


THE   GIRL  OF  THE  WINE   SHOP  139 

Before  we  slept,  my  few  serviceables  were  put  in  posi- 
tion for  instant  departure. 

#  *  *  #         *  * 

When  I  arose  in  the  morning  Jerome  had  already  left 
his  bed.  I  supposed  it  was  out  of  consideration  for 
what  he  was  still  pleased  to  consider  my  weak  condition 
that  he  refrained  from  waking  me.  Claude  came  trip- 
ping in  later  with  the  message  that  M.  de  Greville  had 
gone  to  make  some  last  arrangements  for  our  journey. 
I  slept  so  restfully  through  the  night  my  fatigue  and  all 
unpleasant  reminders  of  the  episode  at  Bertrand's  had 
quite  worn  away,  and  I  felt  refreshed  and  strong  again. 
When  Florine  came  to  inquire  for  my  health  she  found 
me  busied  about  the  packing.  I  greeted  her  kindly,  for 
in  truth  my  gratitude  was  deep  and  sincere. 

"Monsieur  is  preparing  to  leave?"  she  asked  as  if 
more  than  afraid  of  a  reply.  I  could  see  she  had  some 
purpose  in  the  question. 

"Yes,  I  leave  Paris  to-day." 

"To-day?"  she  echoed. 

Yes,  but  I  would  return  and  find  you  again;  I  could 
not  depart  from  France  without  rinding  and  thanking  you 
for  all  your  kindness.  In  truth  I  am  glad  you  came, 

for ."  I  tried  to  say  more,  but  the  words  left  my 

lips  sounding  so  cold  and  meaningless  the  sentence  died 
away  incomplete. 

Florine  stood  there,  vaguely  watching  me  as  though 
she  did  not  understand. 

"Leave  France?"  she  repeated,  her  tone  expressing 
the  hope  she  had  not  heard  aright. 


I4O  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

I  had  already  said  much  more  than  I  intended,  for  I 
was  not  fully  aware  of  Jerome's  intentions,  and  desired 
to  say  nothing  which  would  reveal  them. 

"Leave  France?"  she  urged  again,  "Monsieur — " 
she  halted  for  the  word  quite  naturally. 

"De  Mouret,"  I  supplied,  and  for  the  first  time  she 
knew  my  name ;  surely  it  was  little  enough  to  trust  one 
with  who  had  given  me  my  life. 

"Monsieur  de  Mouret  is  to  leave  France?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered  her  truly,  "but  not  to-day,  pos- 
sibly not  for  several  days.  I  would  not  go  away  with- 
out seeing  you  again." 

I  felt  my  tone  become  warmer  as  I  thought  of  all  this 
girl  had  risked  for  me,  and  so  blundered  on  uncertainly. 
What  was  I  to  do  ?  What  could  I  offer  her  in  repay- 
ment? Not  gold;  she  had  refused  that  with  the  air  of 
a  grande  marquise  the  night  she  first  helped  me  from 
Bertrand's. 

Heartily  wishing  for  some  of  Jerome's  finesse  and 
tact,  I  gazed  at  her,  stupid  and  silent,  watching  the 
tears  gather  in  her  eyes.  I  could  only  guess  the  thought 
which  was  passing  in  her  mind,  and  even  there  I  wronged 
her. 

"Oh,  Monsieur!"  she  spoke  as  from  the  fullness  of 
her  heart,  while  her  voice  trembled  with  excess  of  emo- 
tion, "Monsieur  is  going  back  into  the  great  world; 
Monsieur  has  honor  and  fair  fame;  I  must  return  to  the 
wine  shop." 

The  poor  girl  must  have  been  wearied  out  with  her 
watchings  by  my  bed,  for  she  burst  into  such  an  uncon- 


THE  GIRL  OF  THE  WINE  SHOP        141 

trollable  weeping  as  I  fain  would  have  prevented.  I 
did  my  rough  best  at  comfort,  but  had  to  let  her  sor- 
row run  its  course. 

"Oh,  Monsieur,  think  of  it!  I  must  go  back  to  that 
dreadful  wine  shop,  to  the  gaming  tables;  must  con- 
tinue to  draw  men  there  to  be  despoiled  of  their  money, 
perhaps  of  their  lives ;  must  laugh  and  be  gay,  though 
my  heart  break  at  its  own  debasement.  There  have 
been  many,  ah,  so  many,  I  have  lured  to  that  place; 
and  it  came  so  near  to  costing  you  your  life — you  who 
were  so  kind  to  Florine." 

She  had  sunk  to  the  floor,  and  catching  my  hand 
poured  out  all  the  bitterness  of  her  heart. 

"Yet,  Monsieur,  what  can  Florine  do?  There  is  no 
way  for  a  weak  woman  to  do  anything  in  this  wretched 
Paris.  If  I  do  not  bring  players  to  the  house  my  aunt 
beats  me.  See,"  she  drew  up  her  sleeve,  and  exposed 
the  welts  of  cruel  cuts  across  the  bare  white  flesh.  "She 
denies  me  food  in  my  garret.  So  I  must  work,  be 
merry  and  work — and  weep  all  the  day  for  the  misery 
of  the  nights."  My  heart  went  out  to  the  girl  with  all 
sympathy,  but,  every  whit  as  helpless  as  she,  I  only 
wondered  what  could  be  done. 

"Monsieur,  it  was  not  of  my  choosing,  believe  me, 
believe  me,  it  really  was  not.  My  father  thought  his 
sister  so  well  off  in  this  fine  Paris,  when  she  offered  to 
bring  me  up  as  her  own  child,  and  sent  us  presents,  he 
made  me  come  with  her.  We  were  so  poor,  so  cruelly 
poor.  My  mother  could  not  come  for  me,  and  now 
how  can  I  go  back?  I  dare  not  let  her  know  how  I  am 


142  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

treated.  It  would  break  her  heart,  and  she  is  so  old  and 
tottering.  If  I  seek  other  employment  no  one  will  take 
me,  no  one  would  give  me  a  character  for  service.  All 
the  world  is  open  to  you.  You  go  where  you  please,  do 
what  pleases  you.  All  the  world  is  shut  to  Florine. 
And  you,  Monsieur,  my  only  friend,  I  hoped  when  you 
were  well  again,  such  a  rich  gentleman  could  find  me  a 
place  among  his  friends ;  find  me  some  quiet  place  where 
I  might  live  and  be  of  use,  not  bringing  evil  to  all  I 
touch.  What  an  evil  life,  what  a  wicked  life  I  lead. 
Oh,  Monsieur,  save  me  from  it;  save  me!  The  horrible 
man  you  defended  me  from  that  night  pursues  me  every- 
where; my  aunt  is  jealous  because  of  him.  She  hates 
me  now  and  would  like  to  drive  me  out  upon  the  streets 
— ugh!  the  terror  of  it.  But  her  husband  won't  let  her; 
he  is  kinder  than  she.  See,  I  am  pretty,  I  bring  cus- 
tom. She  can  not  tell  her  husband  why  she  hates  me. 
No,  no.  Bertrand  would  kill  her.  And  I  dare  not  tell 
him.  They  would  kill  me — ' ' 

Her  speech  rambled  on  now,  disconnected  and  inco- 
herent. Still  by  catching  sentences  here  and  there  the 
whole  pitiful  story  was  clear  to  me.  My  eyes  would  al- 
ways overflow  at  sight  of  woman's  suffering,  my  throat 
choked  up ;  I  could  speak  no  word  to  her.  Of  a  truth 
what  a  horrible  life  it  must  be ;  what  iron  webs  do 
sin  and  circumstance  weave  round  their  victim.  The 
cowering  girl  sobbed  convulsively  on  the  floor  at  my 
feet.  I  laid  my  hand  tenderly  upon  her  head. 

"Florine,  I  have  but  two  friends  myself  in  all  this 
land  of  France.  You  have  served  one  of  these  faith- 


THE   GIRL   OF  THE  WINE   SHOP  143 

fully  in  helping  me.  I  will  commend  you  to  him,  and 
am  sure  he  will  reward  you  well." 

"Monsieur,  I  seek  no  reward;  I  served  you  not  for 
money." 

She  shamed  me,  though  I  persisted. 

"Not  a  reward,  Florine,  but  surely  you  can  let  him 
send  you  back  to  your  mother.  Here  is  money;  his 
money,  not  mine;  he  is  rich,  lam  poor.  He  can  pay  you 
for  valuable  service,  I  can  only  give  you  my  undying 
gratitude." 

I  bent  down  and  kissed  her  pale  forehead,  whereat 
she  wept  afresh. 

"Claude's  wife  will  keep  you  here  safe  until  we  come 
again.  Then  we  will  find  means  to  protect  and  provide 
for  you." 

I  bade  her  rise  now  and  calm  herself,  for  a  bustle  in 
the  street  announced  the  noisy  arrival  of  several  horse- 
men. A  few  moments,  and  Jerome's  voice  called  me 
from  below  to  make  all  ready. 

I  called  Claude '-s  wife  up  and  delivered  the  girl  to  her 
keeping,  then  turned  to  look  out  into  the  street.  There 
were  now  drawn  up  in  front  of  the  door  four  sturdy 
equerries,  well  mounted,  and  leading  two  excellent  nags, 
which  I  took  to  be  those  Jerome  had  provided  for  our 
own  use. 

Jerome  obliged  me  once  more  to  dress  with  exceeding 
care,  but  I  fretted  much  for  my  own  easy  garments 
which  permitted  a  man  to  use  his  limbs  with  the  freedom 
God  had  given  them.  Verily  there  would  be  no  regret 
when  all  this  frippery  could  be  cast  aside,  and  by  my 


144  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

faith,  it  was  much  simpler  to  lay  it  off  than  to  array  one's 
self  in.  I  never  did  learn  all  the  eccentricities  of  that 
remarkable  rig  my  fashionable  friend  had  adorned  me 
with. 

"Had  we  better  not  strap  on  our  pistols?"  I  asked, 
not  knowing  what  he  purposed. 

"No;  gentlemen  do  not  wear  them.  Beside,  at 
Sceaux  one  sharpens  one's  wits,  and  lets  even  his  good 
blade  dull  and  rust." 

We  mustered  six  stout  swords  as  we  clattered  away 
from  the  Austrian  Arms,  and  I  could  not  but  note,  de- 
spite what  Jerome  had  said,  he  took  good  care  to  pro- 
vide trusty  fellows  and  swift  horses. 

"A  lean  hound  for  a  long  race,"  Jerome  laughingly 
remarked,  noticing  my  inspection  of  the  not  over-fed 
nag  I  bestrode. 

We  took  that  road  leading  past  the  heights  of  Ville- 
juif,  which  in  hardly  more  than  an  hour's  brisk  ride 
brought  us  to  the  park  of  Sceaux,  overlooking  the 
beautiful  Fontenay  valley  of  which  I  was  destined  to 
learn  much.  During  this  ride  I  had  leisure  to  speak 
with  de  Greville  of  Florine,  for  the  girl's  story  had 
roused  a  real  desire  in  my  heart  to  see  her  bettered. 

"There  are  thousands  such  in  Paris,"  he  replied, 
shrugging  his  shoulders  unconcernedly.  "The  few  tell 
you  truth,  the  many  lie  to  you.  You  know  not  when 
to  believe  them.  If  you  like,  though,  I  will  see  what 
may  be  done.  At  least  she  may  be  placed  in  la  Salt- 
peterie  where  no  present  harm  can  reach  her,  to  earn  a 
living.  It  is  not  a  pleasant  life,  and  no  wonder  young 


THE   GIRL   OF   THE   WINE   SHOP  145 

and  pretty  girls  prefer  the  gay  world  to  the  seclusion 
and  labor  of  Saltpeterie.  Yet  we  will  try." 

He  treated  the  matter  lightly,  as  a  thing  of  common 
occurrence,  yet  was  Jerome  tender-hearted.  Men  who 
live  in  great  cities  become  so  hardened  to  the  vice  and 
crime  about  them  that  they  no  longer  feel  keenly,  as  we 
provincials  do,  the  appeal  of  misery. 

I  might  say  here  that  Florine  was  one  of  the  next 
ship-load  of  girls  who  were  sent  to  the  colonies.  There 
she  found  a  very  worthy  young  planter  who  took  her  to 
wife,  and  after  the  manner  of  the  mistreated  girl  in  the 
fairy  tales  you  children  used  to  read,  "lived  happily 
ever  afterward."  She  became,  from  all  accounts,  a 
good  wife  and  devoted  mother ;  her  children  yet  live  in 
Louisiana,  happy  and  prosperous. 


10 — BLACK  WOLF 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE 

THOSE  reflections  which  I  set  down  at  the  end  of 
the  last  paragraph  drifted  me  somewhat  from  the 
regular  thread  of  my  narrative.  This,  perhaps,  is  not 
the  only  reason  why  I  should  stumble  and  shy  along 
like  a  balky  palfrey  when  I  approach  one  of  the  trifling 
accidents  which  transpired  immediately  after  our  arrival 
at  Sceaux. 

Thinking  now  this  matter  over,  my  withered  cheeks 
lose  their  ashen  hue,  and  burn  again  with  the  hot, 
tumultuous  blood  of  youth  and  shame.  But  I  may  as 
well  tell  it  with  all  the  resolution  a  man  summons  before 
plunging  into  an  icy  bath  at  midwinter.  It  came,  the 
unexpected  prelude  to  one  long,  sweet  song.  It  was  in 
this  wise: 

Jerome  seemed  a  welcome  guest  at  Sceaux,  and  from 
the  hearty  greetings,  yet  respectful  withal,  which  were 
accorded  him,  must  have  been  a  man  of  more  consider- 
ation in  the  world  than  I  had  heretofore  supposed.  Be- 
fore this,  I  received  him  at  his  own  worth,  and  our 
short  acquaintance  had  been  so  filled  with  matters  of 
serious  moment,  I  made  no  inquiries  beyond  the  scant 
(146) 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE       147 

stray  bits  of  information  he  had  himself  volunteered. 
However  that  might  be,  his  welcome  at  Sceaux  was  sin- 
cere. Nor  did  I  wonder  at  his  being  a  favorite,  from 
the  jovial  jests  and  flings  he  cast  at  those  who  crowded 
round,  which  set  them  all  a-laughing.  His  familiarity 
with  the  doings  of  the  day,  and  the  quick  repartee  he 
used  to  men  of  different  parties,  astonished  me  greatly. 

Having  disposed  of  our  horses,  and  given  quiet  orders 
to  the  groom,  Jerome  made  me  acquainted  with  his 
friends.  Some  part  of  their  good-fellowship  fell  to  my 
lot  as  a  friend  of  Jerome's,  and  put  me  upon  my  mettle 
to  return  it. 

As  good  luck  would  have  it,  Jerome's  friend,  the  Chev- 
alier Charles  de  la  Mora,  was  then  at  Sceaux,  and  came 
up  early  on  learning  of  our  arrival. 

He  was  a  splendid  fellow  of  thirty-five,  stalwart  and 
unusually  graceful  for  a  man  of  his  inches.  His  frank 
and  cordial  manner  was  his  greatest  charm  to  me, 
though  a  woman  would  doubtless  have  raved  more  over 
those  dark,  dreamy  eyes,  which  while  mild  enough,  be- 
times gave  promise  of  fire  and  to  spare. 

He  spoke  most  affectionately  to  Jerome,  and  bade  us 
both  be  sure  his  wife  would  receive  us  with  sincerest 
pleasure.  Several  of  the  gentlemen  had  seen  service, 
and  with  them  I  was  immediately  on  easy  terms. 

Before  entering  the  Villa  I  paused  in  a  doorway  at  the 
head  of  a  short  flight  of  steps,  bowing  and  posturing 
through  my  new  catalogue  of  behavior,  anxiously 
watching  for  Jerome's  approval,  or  a  cue.  The  rascal, 
I  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  tell  from  his  expression 


148  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

whether  he  applauded  my  fine  manners  or  laughed  se- 
cretly at  the  folly  of  it  all.  But  I  went  on  as  I  was 
taught,  bending  myself  pretty  well  double,  half  backing 
into  the  door  which  led  to  an  inner  hall.  Holding  this 
position,  which  however  elegant  it  might  have  appeared 
to  those  in  front,  was  certainly  neither  graceful  or  at- 
tractive viewed  from  within,  I  felt  a. sudden  jar  from  the 
rear,  and  being  thus  struck  at  a  point  of  vantage,  came 
near  to  plunging  forward  upon  my  face.  Before  I  could 
recover  my  equilibrium  and  turn  about,  I  heard  the 
jingle  of  a  tray  of  glasses  and  a  cool  shower  of  spray 
flew  about  my  ears.  Then  the  dazed  and  bewildered 
eyes  of  a  timid  girl  looked  full  into  mine ;  she  courage- 
ously paused  and  essayed  to  stammer  out  an  apology. 
Her  gaze,  though,  wandered  past  me,  and  one  sight  of 
the  drawn  features  of  those  who  had  seen  it  all  and  now 
sought  in  vain  to  restrain  their  laughter,  was  too  much 
for  this  startled  fawn.  She  turned  and  fled  as  the  wind, 
just  when  their  merry  peal  burst  out. 

"Well,  my  little  lady  had  best  look  where  she  goes, 
and  not  run  through  a  door  with  her  eyes  behind  her," 
roared  de  Virelle,  when  the  girl  had  well  escaped. 

"His  clothes  are  ruined,  and  so  fine,  ah,  so  fine," 
drawled  Miron. 

"By  my  soul,  Captain,  you  have  flowers  to  spare," 
chimed  in  Le  Rue.  "That's  right,  gather  them  up,  for 
Mademoiselle  is  not  usually  so  generous  with  her  guer- 
dons that  any  should  be  lost.  The  little  icicle." 

His  speech  was  suited  to  my  actions,  for,  like  a  fool, 
I  had  already  dropped  upon  my  knees,  busied  about 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE      149 

picking  up  the  scattered  roses  and  replacing  them  in  the 
vases  from  which  they  had  fallen.  The  tray  was  still 
rolling  and  rattling  around  on  the  floor.  Verily,  I  felt 
my  shame  must  consume  me,  and  took  refuge  in  this 
humble  occupation  to  hide  my  face.  There  is  some  sort 
of  a  confused  recollection  now  abiding  with  me,  that  a 
man-servant  at  length  came  to  sweep  up  the  fragments, 
while  I  watched  him  vacantly,  a  tangled  bunch  of  roses 
in  my  hand. 

In  all  their  laughs  and  jests  and  jibes  hurled  at  my 
embarrassment,  Jerome  never  for  a  moment  lost  sight  of 
the  main  purpose  of  our  visit.  As  all  roads  led  to  Rome, 
so  did  he  adroitly  turn  all  topics  of  conversation  into 
those  channels  where  might  be  supposed  to  run  the 
information  we  wanted. 

I  felt  myself,  especially  in  my  present  frame  of  mind, 
ill-fitted  for  such  a  play.  The  blunt  and  awkward  di- 
rectness of  the  camp  suited  better  my  ways  and  speech. 
Though  I  might  discreetly  hold  my  tongue,  I  could  never 
use  it  with  the  credit  I  could  my  sword.  Nor  could  I 
rid  my  mind  of  the  childish  vision  which  for  one  short 
instant  confronted  me  at  the  door.  Even  then  I  pon- 
dered more  on  her  amazed  expression  and  youthful  in- 
nocence than  upon  our  own  chances  for  success  or 
failure. 

From  the  comments  of  those  about  me,  I  gathered 
she  was  a  protege  of  Madame's,  whose  reserved  man- 
ners made  her  no  great  favorite  with  the  dissolute  throng 
which  collected  at  the  gay  Villa  of  Sceaux.  I  took  little 


150  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

part  in  their  conversation,  and  was  glad  when  Jerome 
by  a  gesture  called  me  to  follow  him  away. 

"Let  us  go  to  see  Madame,"  he  said  simply,  when 
we  were  entirely  out  of  hearing. 

"Du  Maine?"  I  inquired,  vaguely  wondering  why  we 
should  venture  into  the  lion's  den. 

"No  — Madame —  the  other,"  he  replied  with  some 
degree  of  hesitation. 

I  followed  him  without  further  questioning.  He  led  the 
way,  which  was  doubtless  a  familiar  one,  and  the  maid 
at  the  door,  knowing  him,  admitted  us  at  once  to 
Madame's  apartment.  The  woman,  who  sat  alone  in 
the  dainty  silk-hung  boudoir,  rose  and  came  swiftly  for- 
ward to  greet  Jerome,  the  radiant  girlish  smile  changing 
quickly  when  she  perceived  me  enter  behind  him.  It 
was  more  the  grande  dame,  and  less  the  delighted  woman, 
who  acknowledged  my  presentation  with  courtly  grace. 
Intuitively  I  felt  her  unvoiced  inquiry  of  Jerome  why 
he  had  not  come  alone.  Yet  was  she  thoroughly  polite, 
and  chatted  pleasantly  with  us  concerning  the  news  of 
the  day. 

"We  are  to  have  a  fete  this  afternoon;  you  must  both 
come.  Each  guest  is  expected  to  contribute  in  some 
way  to  the  entertainment  of  the  company.  You  Jerome  — 
M.  de  Greville,"  she  begged  pardon  with  a  sudden 
glance  at  me,  "You,  M.  de  Greville,  will  doubtless  favor 
us  with  a  well-turned  madrigal.  And  you,  my  dear 
Captain  de  Mouret,  in  which  direction  do  your  talents 
lie?" 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE       151 

"I  have  no  talents,  Madame;  a  plain  blunt  man  of  the 
camp." 

'  'Ah !  a  soldier ;  so  interesting  in  these  stupid 
times,  when  men  are  little  but  women  differently 
dressed.  Ah,  it  has  been  too  truly  said  that  'when  men 
were  created,  some  of  the  mud  which  remained  served 
to  fashion  the  souls  of  princes  and  lackeys.'  But  surely 
you  could  give  us  a  story?''  and  so  she  talked  on,  not 
discourteous,  but  heedless  of  my  protests.  I  was  really 
alarmed,  lest  she  seriously  call  upon  me  before  that 
stately  company. 

The  tiny  clock  upon  her  table  chimed  the  third  quarter, 
and  she  volunteered  that  at  eleven  she  expected  other 
callers.  Acting  upon  this  hint  Jerome  proceeded  at 
once  to  tell  her  why  we  came,  yet  I  noted  in  all  his  con- 
fidences he  ever  kept  something  to  himself  for  safety's 
sake.  The  maid's  reappearance  interrupted  us.  She 
announced,  "M.  de  Valence." 

A  gleam  of  anger  swept  across  Madame 's  face. 

"Bid  him  wait  my  pleasure  in  the  ante-room.  He  is 
ten  minutes  early.  No,  the  sooner  he  comes  the  sooner 
it  is  over;  wait;  bid  him  come  in.  M.  le  Captain,  de 
Greville,  will  you  gentlemen  please  to  retire  in  that  small 
room  for  a  short  space?  I  will  speedily  be  free  again." 

And  so  it  came  about  we  overheard  matters  which 
opened  my  mind  to  the  way  affairs  of  state  are  managed, 
and  I  grew  to  learn  upon  what  slender  threads  of  love, 
of  malice,  of  jealousy  and  of  hate  the  destinies  of  nations 
must  often  hang.  From  our  situation  we  could  net 
kelp  but  hear  all  that  passed  between  Ma<ia.me.  and  ker 


152  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

caller.  The  maid  withdrew,  in  the  slow  hurry  of  a 
truant  on  his  way  to  school,  but  hastened  at  a  sign  of 
annoyance  from  Madame. 

"Monsieur  de  Valence,  you  are  full  ten  minutes  early. 
You  know  I  bade  you  be  always  exactly  punctual,"  was 
Madame's  petulant  greeting  of  the  handsome  man  who 
bore  himself  so  meekly  in  her  presence. 

No  tone  was  ever  colder,  no  demeanor  more  haughty 
than  hers,  and  this  proud  man  who  bent  before  no 
storm,  who  held  the  fortunes  of  many  within  his  grasp, 
bowed  like  an  obedient  child  to  her  whim. 

"Yes,  Celeste,  I  know,  but — " 

"Madame  de  Chartrain,"  she  corrected.  (I  use  the 
name  de  Chartrain,  though  it  was  not  her  own.) 

"Yes — Madame,  I  know,  but,  it  is  so  hard  to  wait; 
do  you  not  understand  how  I  count  the  minutes  every 
day  until — " 

"Yes,  yes,  I've  heard  all  those  fine  excuses  before. 
To  your  business.  The  other  can  wait,  business  first, 
then — ' ' 

"Pleasure?"  he  supplemented  with  an  eagerness 
strangely  at  variance  with  the  rigid  self-control  he  had 
hitherto  shown. 

"I  did  not  say  pleasure,"  she  gravely  broke  in,  "your 
business." 

The  man  submitted  with  the  patience  of  one  quite  ac- 
customed, yet  not  wholly  resigned  to  such  a  reception, 
and  spread  numerous  papers  upon  the  table  before  her. 
Selecting  one  he  began  to  explain : 

"Your  wishes  in  regard  to  this  matter  have  been  car- 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE      153 

ried  out ;  I  had  the  man  detained  in  the  city  where  he  is 
at  your  command.  He  suspects  nothing,  though  fret- 
ful at  the  restraint." 

"Very  good.     And  the  other?" 

"Yes,  here  it  is.  You  see  this  has  been  so  arranged 
that  the  Duke  quite  naturally  selected  Menezes  to  bear 
these  dispatches.  You  may  remind  him  that  Menezes 
is  a  brother  of  the  man  Perrault,  whom  he  had  hanged 
some  years  ago.  Here  is  the  man's  history,  which  you 
can  look  over  at  leisure.  The  Duke  has  forgotten  all 
this  in  his  impatience  to  remedy  the  Yvard  fiasco.  It 
will  serve,  however,  to  make  him  think  you  even  more 
clever  and  devoted  to  him." 

I  listened  closely  at  the  name  "Yvard." 

"Well,  now  so  far  so  good.  And  the  question  of 
finance?  That  is  of  more  importance." 

"And  of  more  difficulty.  The  Madame  often  dab- 
bles herself  in  these  dealings  involving  money,  and  she 
is  harder  to  deceive.  However  she  is  not  accurate  at 
figures,  clever  though  she  be  otherwise.  Look  over 
this;  this  calculation.  See,  there  is  a  simple  transposi- 
tion of  an  item,  which  results  in  a  difference  of  near  ten 
thousand  livres.  It  appears  there  to  have  been  made 
by  the  money  lender  for  his  greater  gain.  You  can 
study  this  copy  before  the  Duke  comes.  Then  you  will 
be  quite  prepared  to  point  out  this  error  and  make  the 
correction.  Here  is  his  copy  which  he  will  sign." 

"Ah,  good,"  she  said  looking  over  the  memoran- 
dum he  had  given  her  of  the  amounts,  with  the  correct 
calculations  all  neatly  carried  out. 


154  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

"Well,  that  is  enough  for  this  morning;  you  may 
go;  these  things  weary  me." 

"Celeste,  Celeste,  how  long  is  this  to  continue?  will 
you  never —  ' ' 

11  Madame ,"  she  corrected  positively,  rumpling  and 
smoothing  out  again  the  paper  in  her  lap. 

"As  you  will,"  with  an  air  of  hopeless  protest.  "Do 
you  mean  always  to  send  me  away  when  our  business  is 
completed — ?" 

"Was  it  not  our  agreement?" 

"Yes,  bat  I  thought — " 

"You  had  no  right  to  think." 

"A  man  must  needs  think  whether  he  will  or  no,  what 
is  of  life  itself.  Are  you  a  woman  of  ice?  Do  you  not 
realize  I  sell  all  I  hold  most  dear,  the  confidence  born 
of  a  life-time's  honest  service  to  my  King,  my  own 
honor,  only  to  serve  you,  to  be  with  you?" 

"I  am  weary.     It  is  time  for  you  to  go." 

"Yes,  but  is  there  nothing  else?     You  agreed — " 

"Oh,  I  know,  why  remind  me?"  She  turned  upon 
him  fiercely.  "Do  you  wish  to  make  me  hate  you? 
Now  you  are  only  an  object  of  indifference,  objection- 
able to  me  as  are  all  men  who  make  love,  and  sigh,  and 
worry  me.  Do  you  wish  me  to  hate  and  despise  you 
more  than  the  rest?" 

"God  forbid!     But—" 

"You  still  insist?" 

"Yes,  I  must  have  my  thirty  pieces  of  silver,  the 
price  of  my  treachery,"  de  Valence  returned  bitterly; 
"men  die  in  the  Bastille  for  lesser  offenses  than  mine." 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE      155 

"That  is  your  affair,"  the  woman  replied,  without  a 
shade  of  concern. 

I  thought  I  could  perceive  a  growing  embarrassment 
in  her  manner  as  de  Valence  came  closer  to  her,  remem- 
bering, for  so  she  must,  that  we  could  hear  every  word 
through  the  portiere.  She  collected  herself  bravely;  de 
Valence  must  not  suspect. 

"Come,  I'll  pay  you,"  and  she  put  her  lips  upward  so 
coolly  I  wondered  he  should  care  to  touch  them.  Je- 
rome raged  silently,  for  I  confess  we  were  both  guilty  of 
looking  as  well  as  listening.  De  Valence  leaned  over 
her,  but  lifted  his  head  again. 

"Celeste — Madame,  so  cold.  I'd  as  lief  kiss  the 
marble  lips  of  Diana  in  the  park." 

"Oh,  as  you  please;  you  may  kiss  them,  too,  if  you 
like,"  she  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  was  not  pretty  for 
the  instant.  "I  pay  as  I  promise;  it  is  a  mere  barter  of 
commodities  You  may  take  or  leave  it  as  you  choose. ' ' 

The  man's  attitude  of  dejection  touched  even  me,  but 
the  woman  gave  no  sign  of  feeling  or  compassion,  only 
intense  impatience 

"Well,  Monsieur,  am  I  to  sit  waiting  an  hour?  Are 
you  come  to  be  a  sordid  huckster  to  wrangle  over  your 
price?" 

De  Valence  bent  over  her  again,  touched  the  lips 
lightly,  and  strode  away,  gathering  up  his  papers  from 
the  table  as  he  went.  Two  only  were  left,  and  those 
Madame  held  listlessly  in  her  hand. 

We  felt  thoroughly  conscious  of  our  guilt,  Jerome  and 
I,  when  we  put  aside  the  screen  and  re-entered  the 


156  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

room.  There  was  a  certain  air  of  resentment  in  his 
manner,  as  if  he  would  call  her  to  account,  and  I  heartily 
wished  myself  otherwhere.  Perhaps  it  was  all  for  the 
best;  my  presence  prevented,  for  the  time,  explanations, 
and  I  fancied  the  woman  was  grateful  for  the  respite. 
Her  lassitude,  and  effort  to  overcome  it,  smote  me  to  the 
quick,  and  right  willingly  I  would  have  aided  her  had  I 
but  the  power.  To  Jerome  she  spoke: 

"You  heard— all?" 

He  nodded. 

"And  saw?"  Less  resolutely  this  question  came. 
The  words  conveyed  the  wish,  unexpressed,  that  he  had 
not  heard.  To  me  she  gave  no  thought.  Again  Je- 
rome nodded,  and  looked  away. 

"It  is  the  penalty  and  the  price  of  powei.  Oh,  Je- 
rome, how  fervently  I  have  prayed  that  this  all  had  not 
been,"  she  went  on  oblivious  of  my  presence. 

Jerome's  resentment  faded  away  at  her  mute  appeal 
for  sympathy,  and  I  am  very  sure  he  would  not  have 
me  chronicle  all  that  then  occurred.  Suffice  it,  that  I 
employed  myself  by  the  window,  some  minutes  per- 
haps, until  a  hasty  rap  on  the  door,  and  the  maid  bore 
a  message  which  she  delivered  to  her  mistress  in  secret. 

"Bid  him  come  in  at  once  if  it  please  him." 

"He  is  already  here,  madame,"  the  girl  replied. 

We  had  barely  time  to  gain  our  former  hiding  place 
before  a  man  richly  dressed,  and  limping,  entered;  the 
same  I  had  seen  in  the  gardens  of  Versailles.  I  was 
now  intensely  interested  in  this  little  drama,  which,  as  it 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE      1 57 

were,  was  being  played  for  my  own  benefit,  and  gave 
closer  study  to  the  Duke  of  Maine  who  hurried  in. 

The  weak,  irresolute  face  bore  no  trace  of  the  dignity 
and  power  which  made  his  royal  father  at  times  truly 
great;  it  showed,  too,  but  little  inheritance  from  the 
proud  beauty  of  de  Montespan.  Vastly  inferior  to 
both,  and  to  his  ambitious  wife  whose  schemes  he 
adopted  when  they  succeeded  and  disowned  when  they 
failed,  the  Duke  trembled  now  upon  the  verge  of  a 
mighty  intrigue  which  perchance  would  make  him  mas- 
ter of  an  empire,  perchance  consign  him  to  the  Bastille 
or  to  the  block.  Well  he  knew  that  the  abandoned 
Philip  of  Orleans,  though  he  sometimes  forgot  his  friends, 
never  spared  an  enemy.  With  these  thoughts  haunting 
him,  his  timid  mind  shrank  from  putting  his  fortunes  to 
a  decisive  test,  and  he  looked  forward,  dreading  to  see 
the  increasing  feebleness  of  the  King  hasten  that  day 
when  a  quick  stroke  must  win  or  lose. 

He  approached  Madame  at  the  table  with  a  sem- 
blance of  that  swagger  affected  by  the  weakling  in  pres- 
ence of  women,  yet  permitting  the  wandering  eye  and 
uncertain  gestures  to  betray  his  uneasiness.  Something 
had  evidently  gone  wrong  with  my  lord. 

"Have  you  heard,  Celeste,  of  Yvard?"  he  inquired, 
dropping  into  a  seat. 

My  ears  quickened  at  the  familiar  name. 

"Well,  what  of  him?" 

"He  has  lost  the  Louisiana  dispatches,  and  I  know 
not  what  they  contained." 


158  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  woman,  as  if  genuinely 
alarmed,  and  learning  the  bad  news  at  first  hand. 

"Yes,  the  cursed  fool  lost  them  in  some  drunken 
brawl  in  the  city.  We  have  had  the  place  thoroughly 
searched,  but — "he  finished  the  sentence  with  a  shrug  to 
express  his  failure. 

"What  if  they  should  reach  Orleans?"  he  continued 
evenly.  "My  men  fear  he  has  gone  to  him  anyway, 
hoping  to  play  in  with  both  for  pardon.  I'd  feel  much 
safer  could  we  only  lay  our  hands  upon  him.  He  is  the 
one  man  beside  ourselves  here  who  knows — who  knows, 
anything,"  the  Duke  went  on  with  growing  trepida- 
tion. 

"Well,  make  yourself  comfort,  my  lord,  I  took  the 
responsibility  to  detain  Yvard  in  Paris." 

"You?"  he  sprang  from  his  chair  in  astonishment. 
"You?  Why?  How?" 

"I  thought  your  safety  demanded  it.  My  lord  is  too 
generous,  too  confiding,"  she  threw  toward  him  a 
glance  of  concern  poor  de  Valance  would  have  periled 
his  soul  to  win.  You  see,  when  we  entrusted  him  with 
this  business,  it  was  so  delicate  a  mission,  I  set  a  watch 
upon  him — some  of  my  own  people  of  Anjou — and 
when  he  acted  negligently  they  reported  to  me.  He 
began  drinking,  too,  and  freely,  so  I  feared  his  discre- 
tion. I  now  have  the  man  safe  in  Paris.  What  would 
my  lord  with  him?" 

Du  Maine  fixed  his  cold  eyes  upon  her,  for  a  short 
space, then, 

"It  would  be  prudent  to  put  him  quietly  out  of  the 


THE   SECRETARY   AND   THE    DUKE  159 

way,"  he  suggested,  the  thin  lips  closing  cruelly.  "No, 
hold  him,  we  may  have  further  need  for  his  sword.  But 
have  a  care  that  he  talks  to  no  one." 

Madame  had  raised  no  objection  to  the  Duke's  cool 
command  that  an  end  be  made  of  Yvard,  yet  I  did  her 
the  credit  to  suppose  it  was  because  she  well  knew  she 
might  do  as  she  liked,  and  he  be  none  the  wiser. 

He  now  settled  himself  upon  a  divan  near  Madame, 
with  all  the  complacency  of  a  man  whose  own  foresight 
has  saved  him  a  serious  trouble,  and  said  after  mature 
deliberation,  gazing  thoughtfully  at  the  sportive  cherubs 
on  the  ceiling: 

"Well,  it  could  not  have  been  so  bad  after  all,  for  I 
observed  the  caution  to  prepare  a  warning  for  our  friends 
across  the  frontier,  and  had  arranged  for  a  friend  of  ours 
to  be  entrapped  by  Orleans,  betraying  misleading  dis- 
patches to  him.  A  fine  plan,  think  you?  Menezes  you 
know  is  devoted  to  me,  and  I  have  promised  him  a 
patent." 

"Who  did  your  grace  say  was  to  be  this  friend?" 

"Menezes." 

"Why  Menezes?" 

"I  have  done  much  for  the  fellow,  and  he  is  not  over 
clever;  clever  enough  for  the  purpose,  you  know, 
but  — ' ' 

' '  Does  my  lord  not  remember  Menezes  is  a  brother  of 
the  Perrault  whom  you  had  hanged  some  years  ago?  I 
fear  you  have  been  badly  advised." 

"No!     I  do  not  recall  him." 

"The  rogue  who  cast  a  stone  at  your  horse?" 


160  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"Ah,  I  bring  him  to  mind.  Short,  thick-set  fellow, 
who  whined  something  about  hunger,  children,  and  the 
cold.  Ugh!  What  concern  have  I  with  the  rabble? 
But  how  do  you  know  this,  Celeste?" 

"I  have  long  misdoubted  him,  and  had  the  rascal 
overlooked.  He  is  of  Picardy,  and  his  father  was  at- 
tached to  St.  Andre,  who  likes  not  His  Grace,  the  Duke 
of  Maine." 

"No,  by  my  faith,  he  hates  me.  Ah,  I  see  it  all. 
Celeste,  you  should  have  been  a  man,  a  man's  wit  al- 
most you  have.  Really,  so  much  brain  is  wasted  in 
that  pretty  head  of  yours.  Madame  will  come  to  com- 
prehend she  does  not  know  it  all — yet  she  torments  me 
till  I  give  in.  I  think  I  shall  take  firmer  hold,  and 
manage  my  own  affairs  to  better  advantage  than  she. 
Ugh!  What  a  scrape  she  was  like  to  get  me  in." 

He  gradually  regained  the  expression  of  complete 
satisfaction  with  himself,  and  prepared  now  to  show  the 
masterpiece  of  his  work,  the  contract  with  Antonio  of 
Modena,  the  money-lender. 

"Here  are  our  financial  plans;  the  usury  is  high,  but 
there  is  great  risk,  so  thinks  Antonio ;  egad!  perhaps 
he  is  right,  though  it  is  possible  we  may  pay  him.  Al- 
together a  most  excellent  plan,  my  own  work1 . " 

Madame  interrupted  him,  thinking  perhaps  it  v/as 
wise  that  he  should  not  be  committed  too  far  that  he 
could  not  throw  the  blame  on  other  shoulders.  She 
took  advantage  of  a  pause  to  examine  the  document 
with  apparent  care. 

"Yes,  excellent,  but  let  us  see.   Three,  seven,  twelve, 


THE  SECRETARY  AND  THE  DUKE      l6l 

fourteen,  twenty-three — here  is  some  mistake.  Let  us 
go  over  it  again.  Yes,  here  it  is.  This  is  not  your  ac- 
counting. The  miserly  Lombard  would  cozen  you  of 
your  honor  if  he  could  but  sell  it  again.  Here  is  an 
error  of  near  ten  thousand  livres ;  let  me  correct  it  for 
you." 

And  while  he  stared  at  her  she  deftly  copied  the  cor- 
rect amounts  from  the  slip  she  held  concealed  in  her 
hand.  She  knew  the  figures  were  his  own,  but  gave  no 
token. 

"I  doubt  not  you  would  have  looked  over  it  more 
carefully  before  you  signed  it,  and  these  matters  would 
have  been  detected  by  your  own  eyes." 

"Yes,  yes,"  he  replied  nervously,  reaching  out  his 
hand  for  the  paper  lest  she  observe — what  her  quick 
eyes  had  at  first  seen — that  the  contract  already  bore 
his  signature  and  seal.  She  gave  it  him  and  he  re- 
placed it  carefully  in  his  breast. 

"I  will  give  those  careless  secretaries  a  lesson  they 
sorely  need,"  and  in  this  disturbed  condition  of  mind 
he  blustered  out  of  the  apartment,  forgetting  his  usual 
gallantries,  which  Madame  so  diplomatically  put  aside 
without  giving  too  serious  offense. 

Jerome  leaned  against  the  window-facing,  his  unsee- 
ing eyes  resting  on  the  park  beyond  the  little  garden  at 
our  feet.  His  brow  lowered,  not  as  of  a  storm,  but 
with  the  murkiness  of  a  settled  and  dismal  day.  Per- 
chance his  thoughts  wandered  with  his  childhood's 
sweetheart  amid  the  fertile  vales  of  far  away  Anjou, 
11— BLACK  WOLB- 


162  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Nothing  was  more  distant  from  him  than  the  gilded 
furnishings,  the  frescoes,  the  marble  Venus  at  his  elbow. 
Beside  her  table,  alone,  and  abstracted  as  Jerome,  the 
woman  toyed  with  a  dainty  fan ;  her  impassive  beauty, 
born  of  rigid  training,  betrayed  not  the  inner  desola- 
tion. Her  face  was  calm  and  serious  enough,  the  skin 
lay  smooth  and  glowed  with  all  those  delicate  tints  that 
women  love. 

Her  quietude  reminded  me  of  the  slumbering  ocean, 
glassy  and  tranquil,  whose  unmarred  surface  conveyed 
no  hint  of  sunken  ships  beneath,  of  cold  dumb  faces 
tossing  in  the  brine,  of  death-abysses  where  wrecks 
abandoned  lie. 

I  slipped  away  without  rousing  a  protest  from  Jerome, 
and  closing  the  door  softly  left  them  to  their  medita- 
tions and  to  each  other. 


CHAPTER  XV 

NEW    HOPES 

NOW,  that  I  was  well  out  of  their  way,  it  came  to 
me  to  wonder  what  I  should  do  with  myself  until 
Jerome  might  please  to  seek  me  again,  but  accident  fa- 
vored me  with  occupation.  Passing  through  the  hall  I 
heard  a  woman's  shrill  voice,  lifted  in  anger,  berating 
some  unfortunate  attendant. 

"You  wretched  hussy,  to  speak  rudely  to  a  guest  of 
mine,  who  did  but  make  to  you  a  pretty  speech.  I'd 
have  you  be  most  charming  to  Monsieur  Viard.  Re- 
member, you  are  only  a  hireling,  and  need  give  your- 
self no  such  fine  and  unseemly  airs." 

The  door  just  ahead  of  me  was  thrown  violently  open, 
and  out  strutted  a  tiny  lady  in  a  most  disproportionate 
rage.  She  was  beautiful  neither  in  face  nor  figure;  she 
was  diminutive,  and  petulant  of  manner,  but  bore  her- 
self with  an  air  of  almost  regal  pride.  It  was  she  whom 
I  came  to  know  as  Madame  du  Maine,  a  daughter  of 
the  proud  and  princely  Condes.  Following  her,  weep- 
ing bitterly,  came  the  sweet  maid  who  had  spilled  the 
tray  of  flowers  on  me  at  the  door.  I  stepped  back  into 
an  alcove,  lest,  perchance,  she  look  behind,  and  aim- 
lessly I  straggled  out  into  the  gardens  as  best  I  might. 
(163) 


1 64  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

The  Villa  being  a  strange  ground,  it  fretted  me  to  be 
alone  therein,  with  nothing  to  think  of  but  this  trouble 
of  my  friends.  And  Madame  de  Chartrain,  did  I  blame 
her?  Blame  Jerome?  Yes — no.  I  hardly  knew. 
Viewed  at  a  distance  and  impartially,  such  things  strike 
us  with  aversion,  and  we  are  quick  to  condemn.  But  the 
more  I  thought  the  nearer  I  came  to  concluding  it  took 
something  more  than  a  mere  mummery  to  make  a  wife. 
All  the  ceremonials  and  benedictions  and  lighted  can- 
dles and  high-sounding  phrases  could  not  bind  a 
woman'  s  heart,  where  that  heart  was  free,  or  called 
some  other  man  its  lord.  Yet  the  bare  fact  remained, 
this  woman  was  a  wife,  and  to  me,  at  least,  that  name 
had  always  been  a  sacred  and  holy  one. 

To  what  vain  or  wise  conclusions  my  cogitations  may 
have  led  me,  I  conceive  not,  for  another  small  matter 
now  quite  absorbed  my  whole  attention.  It  was  the 
beginning  of  that  one  dear  hope  which  speedily  banished 
all  others.  It  is  said  the  trippant  tread  of  Fate  doth 
leave  no  print  upon  the  sand  to  mark  its  passage,  nor 
doth  she  sound  a  note  of  warning  that  the  waiting  hand 
may  grasp  her  garments  as  she  flies. 

A  gleam  of  white  in  one  of  the  summer  houses 
caught  my  roving  eye,  and  quite  aimlessly  I  passed  the 
door.  A  chit  of  a  child  crouched  upon  the  floor,  and 
leaned  forward  on  the  benches,  weeping  as  though  each 
sob  were  like  to  burst  her  little  heart.  I  grant  it  was 
no  affair  of  mine,  yet  my  tears  were  ever  wont  to  start, 
and  eyes  play  traitor  to  mine  arm  at  sight  of  woman's 
trouble.  Without  thinking  one  whit,  I  stepped  in  be- 


NEW   HOPES  165 

side  her,  and  laying  my  hand  gently  upon  the  lassie's 
shoulder,  implored  that  she  weep  no  more. 

Up  she  sprang  to  face  me,  flushed  and  indignant. 
Verily  was  I  abashed.  Yet  there  was  that  of  sympathy 
and  sincerity  in  my  voice  and  mien — or  so  she  told  me 
after — which  turned  her  wrath  aside. 

"You,  Monsieur;  I  thought  it  was  old  Monsieur  Viard, 
he  pursues  me  so." 

It  was  the  same  little  maid  I  had  seen  in  the  hall,  and 
that  was  why  I  trembled.  She  wept  now  for  the  scold- 
ing she  had  got.  I  caught  my  breath  to  inquire  why 
she  wept. 

"Oh,  Madame,  Madame — it  is  the  humor  of  Madame 
to  humiliate  me  of  late ;  she  reminds  me  ever  of  my  de- 
pendent position.  And  Monsieur,"  the  child  straight- 
ened up  proudly  till  she  was  quite  a  woman.  "Mon- 
sieur, I  come  of  a  race  as  old  as  her  own — and  as  hon- 
ored." "Charles  is  poor — the  Chevalier  de  la  Mora, 
you  know.  But  now  he  goes  to  the  colonies,  and  will 
take  me  with  him." 

It  was  a  silly  enough  thing  to  do,  but  about  here  I 
stalked  most  unceremoniously  off,  leaving  her  to  her 
sorrow  and  her  tears.  Since  that  day  I  have  often  smiled 
to  think  how  foolishly  do  the  wisest  men  deport  them- 
selves when  they  first  begin  to  love.  Their  little  starts 
of  passion,  their  petty  angers  and  their  sweet  repent- 
ances— all  were  unexplored  by  me,  for  Love  to  me  was 
yet  an  unread  book. 

At  the  door  of  the  house  M.  Leroux  hailed  me  gra- 
ciously : 


1 66  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Well  met,  my  dear  Captain;  we  go  to  the  park,  and 
would  have  you  bear  us  company.  Where  is  M.  de 
Greville?" 

I  explained  as  best  I  might  his  absence,  and  followed 
them  in  lieu  of  better  employment,  forgetting  for  the 
time  the  threatened  fete.  Before  I  could  extricate  my- 
self, these  new  friends  had  led  me  into  a  brilliant  circle, 
and  duly  presented  me  to  Madame,  who  sat  on  a  sort 
of  raised  platform  in  the  center. 

She  showed  no  traces  of  her  recent  anger  and  spite, 
vented  upon  that  patient  girl  who  now  claimed  all  my 
thought.  Her  ladies,  some  languishing  literary  nota- 
bles of  the  day,  and  officers,  stood  about  discussing  the 
news,  and  talked  of  naught  but  some  fetching  style  or 
popular  play,  through  all  of  which  I  struggled  as 
bravely  as  my  dazed  condition  would  permit.  It  seemed 
I  would  never  grow  accustomed  to  the  like,  though  it  is 
said  many  men  find  great  delight  in  such  gatherings. 
But  one  thing  I  searched  for  most  eagerly. 

Behind  Madame's  chair,  after  a  little,  appeared  the 
sweet  shy  face  of  my  weeping  Niobe  of  the  park.  I 
felt  she  saw  and  recognized  me,  and  my  face  grew 
warmer  at  the  thought.  I  made  bold  to  ask  one  of  the 
gentlemen  standing  near  me  who  the  lady  might  be, 
and  not  desiring  to  point  at  her,  simply  described  her 
as  well  as  possible,  and  as  being  in  attendance  upon 
Madame. 

"That,  Monsieur,  is  Madame  Agnes,  wife  of  the 
Chevalier  de  la  Mora;  the  wittiest  and  most  beautiful 
woman  at  Sceaux,  and  the  chilliest." 


NEW   HOPES  167 

Noting  the  change  of  countenance  which  I  sought  in 
vain  to  control,  he  went  on  banteringly. 

"Beware  M.  le  Capitaine,  half  the  men  at  Sceaux  are 
in  love  with  her,  but  she  has  the  execrable  taste  to  pre- 
fer her  own  husband.  Such  women  destroy  half  the 
zest  of  living.  Beside,  the  Chevalier  has  a  marvelous 
sword  and  a  most  unpleasant  temper.  Bah  !  how  ludi- 
crous it  is  for  men  to  anger  at  trifles. 

"But,"  I  faltered,  "she  seems  a  mere  child." 

"Yes,  but  none  the  less  charming,"  and  he  turned 
away  to  continue  his  interrupted  conversation  with  the 
daring  young  Arouet,  the  same  who  was  to  acquire  uni- 
versal fame  under  the  name  Voltaire. 

Thus  rudely  were  my  new-awakened  hopes  of  love 
cast  down.  A  wife,  and  the  wife  of  a  friend !  She  had 
spoken  to  me  of  "Charles,"  and  of  going  with  him  to 
the  colonies.  A  wife,  yet  for  all  that,  I  knew  I  loved 
her. 

They  say  the  road  to  hell  is  paved  with  good  inten- 
tions. My  intentions  were  the  best  that  ever  made  ex- 
cellent cobblestones  toward  the  infernal  gate.  Only  a 
few  days  and  I  would  be  gone;  surely  those  could  be 
passed  through  in  peace.  She  was  a  wife — I  would  never 
let  her  know  that  all  my  heart  was  hers.  This  I  deter- 
mined. But  man  is  weak,  and  the  very  atmosphere  of 
France  dried  up  the  springs  of  every  honest  impulse. 
Everywhere  was  scoffing,  raillery  and  disbelief.  Honor, 
friendship  and  virtue  were  regarded  as  the  vain  chimeras 
of  a  fool.  Why  should  not  I  enjoy  life  while  I  might? 

Directly  Madame  Chartram  entered  without  intrud- 


1 68  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

ing,  and  composedly  took  her  place  among  the  ladies 
who  made  room  for  her  near  Madame.  Nothing  in  her 
manner  bore  evidence  of  her  recent  conflict.  It  was 
really  marvelous  how  the  life  these  women  led  schooled 
them  to  a  stoicism  any  Choctaw  brave  daring  the  stake 
might  envy.  She  nodded  to  me  gaily,  and  I  stopped 
to  touch  her  hand  . 

"Where  is  M.  de  Greville?  Is  he  not  to  be  with  us 
this  afternoon?" 

I  looked  her  in  the  face,  wondering,  for  could  she  not 
answer  her  own  question  far  better  than  I  ?  She  read 
my  meaning,  but  her  glance  never  wavered. 

"Ah!  There  he  is,  among  the  gentlemen.  I  feared 
he  found  Sceaux  too  dull  after  Paris,  and  he  had  prom- 
ised us  a  bit  of  his  work.  You  know  he  composes  fa- 
mous verses  to  some  fair  and  distant  inamorata." 

"Indeed,  Madame,  I  suspected  not  his  talents,"  I 
replied.  Our  conversation  lagged,  for  the  programme 
had  already  commenced,  and  we  gave  our  attention  to 
the  reading  of  some  curious  letters,  said  to  have  been 
written  by  two  Persians  of  distinction  then  traveling  in 
Europe,  which  were  being  published  anonymously  in 
Paris.  At  first,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  listen  to 
such  twaddle,  dubiously  moral,  which,  under  the  guise 
of  light,  small  talk,  struck  at  the  foundations  of  govern- 
ment, religious  beliefs,  and  all  which  I  had  before  held 
sacred.  Listening  only  to  contradict,  I  grew  interested 
in  spite  of  myself,  and  only  at  some  allusion  more  than 
usually  out  of  place,  as  it  seemed  to  me,  among  so 


NEW   HOPES  169 

many  ladies,  did  I  take  my  eyes  from  the  reader's  coun- 
tenance, and  suffer  them  to  roam  about  the  company. 

Feeling  again  the  subtle  influence  of  Agnes'  gaze 
fixed  full  upon  me,  it  caused  my  cheeks  to  flush,  my 
knees  to  quake,  and  verily,  my  legs  were  as  like  to 
carry  me  away  as  to  sustain  me  where  I  leaned  against 
a  tree.  The  girl  was  looking  straight  at  me;  I  dared 
not  return  her  stare  which  had  something  more  than 
mere  curiosity  in  it,  and  disturbed  me  greatly. 

The  reading  was  finished  without  my  knowledge,  a 
piece  of  buffoonery,  or  play  acting  gone  through  with, 
which  I  did  not  see,  when  my  own  name,  called  by 
Madame,  brought  me  to  my  proper  good  sense  again. 

I  found  myself,  before  I  was  quite  aware,  bending  be- 
fore Madame  and  receiving  her  command  that  I  should 
do  something  for  the  amusement  of  the  company. 

"M.  Jerome  has  favored  us,  you  know — we  have  no 
drones  here,"  she  went  on  pleasantly,  "and  it  is  the 
rule  at  Sceaux  that  all  must  join  our  merriment." 

"Jerome?"  I  answered  in  a  bewildered  fashion,  for  I 
had  no  recollection  of  seeing  aught  he  did ;  then  I  re- 
membered hearing  him  recite  some  languishing  verses 
about  a  white  rose,  a  kiss,  a  lady's  lips — some  sighs, 
and  such  other  stuff  that  now  escapes  me — but  I  had 
paid  no  attention  to  it  all. 

Jerome,  the  villain,  seconded  Madame's  request  so 
vigorously  I  could  not  decline,  though  he  well  knew  I 
was  no  carpet  knight  capable  of  entertaining  ladies  fair 
on  the  tourney  field  of  wit. 

"The   Captain  sings  divinely,  Madame,  but  is  be- 


1 70         THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

comingly  modest,  as  you  see."  The  wretch  laughed  in 
his  sleeve;  I  could  have  strangled  him. 

"Ah,  so  rare,"  she  retorted,  "you  men  are  vainer 
than  my  ladies." 

I  knew  myself  the  target  for  dozens  of  curious  eyes, 
under  the  heat  of  which  I  near  melted  away. 

"Sing,  comrade,  sing  some  sweet  love  ditty  of  a 
lonely  forest  maiden  and  her  lover,  robed  in  the  inno- 
cence of  Eden." 

Had  the  fool  no  sense?  I  caught  the  imploring  ex- 
pression of  interest  on  the  girl's  sweet  face  behind  Mad- 
ame, and  determined  at  all  hazards  they  should  not  have 
the  laugh  at  me.  I  saw  it  all  then ;  they  were  in  league 
with  Jerome  to  play  a  game  of  "bait  the  bear,"  with  me 
for  bear. 

So  I  pitched  in  and  sang,  such  a  song  I  warrant  as 
my  lords  and  ladies  had  never  bent  their  ears  to  hear 
before,  a  crooning  death  incantation  of  the  Choctaws, 
which  fell  as  naturally  from  my  lips  as  my  own  mother 
tongue. 

Their  laughter  hushed,  for  even  in  the  court  of  France, 
sated  as  it  was  with  novelties,  laying  a-  world  under  trib- 
ute for  amusements,  that  wild,  weird  melody  never  rose 
before  nor  since.  One  stanza  I  sang  translated  into 
French  that  they  might  understand ; 

"  Yuh!     Listen.     Quickly  you  have  drawn  near  to  hearken  ; 
Listen!     Now  I  have  come  to  step  over  your  soul ; 
You  are  of  the  Wolf  Clan; 
Your  name  is  Ayuni  ; 

Toward  the  Black  Coffin  of  the  upland,  in  the  upland  of  the 
Darkening  Land  your  path  shall  stretch  out. 


NEW   HOPES  I/ 1 

With   the  Black  Coffin  and  the  Black  Slabs  I  have  come  to 

cover  you. 
When  darkness  comes  jour  spirit  shall  grow  less  and  dwindle 

away  never  to  reappear.     Listen." 

And  they  did  listen;  yea,  attentively  did  they 
hearken,  for  a  great  pall  of  silence  lowered  upon  them, 
so  new,  so  strange  to  them  was  the  song. 

When  I  had  quite  finished,  the  soft,  Indian  words 
dropping  as  the  splash  of  unknown,  unseen  waters, 
Madame  besought  me  with  earnestness  to  tell  her  more, 
and  the  others  crowded  round  to  hear.  I  do  not  know 
what  evil  genius  of  folly  prompted  the  childish  deed, 
but  feeling  safe  in  having  found  what  we  wanted,  and 
moved  more  than  I  would  admit  by  the  now  admiring 
eyes  of  the  girl,  I  gathered  up  half  a  dozen  daggers 
from  the  gentlemen  who  stood  about~  Selecting  those 
whose  weight  and  balance  commended  themselves  most 
to  my  purpose,  I  cleared  a  small  space,  and  having  sent 
a  serving  man  for  a  pack  of  cards,  chose  a  five  spot  and 
pinned  it  to  a  tree.  Standing  back  some  ten  to  fifteen 
paces.  I  cast  the  four  knives  at  the  corner  pips  in  quick 
succession,  piercing  them  truly,  then  paused  a  minute 
and  cast  the  fifth  knife  at  the  center,  striking  accurately 
between  the  other  four.  It  was  an  act  of  idle  vanity, 
yet  I  hated  for  Jerome  to  taunt  me  on  the  way  home. 

By  these  petty  means  I  gained  a  cheap  applause  from 
the  belles  and  gallants  at  Sceaux,  and  Jerome  opened 
not  his  lips  to  jibe  me,  as  I  feared,  but  like  the  rest,  ap- 
plauded. 

I  had  now  quite  regained   my  courage,  but  for  the 


1/2  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

girl.  I  loved  to  think  of  her  as  but  a  girl;  that  she  was 
also  a  wife  I  barred  out  of  our  castle  in  Spain.  Why 
should  I  be  afraid  of  such  a  timid  child?  Verily,  I 
knew  not. 

My  folly  had  one  result  I  could  not  then  foresee ;  it 
told  some  of  those  present,  whose  hand  it  was  had  cast 
the  hunting  knife  which  struck  Yvard.  I  did  not  learn 
this  for  days  after. 

The  approving  and  pleased  look  on  the  little  lady's 
face  fired  me  with  an  insane  desire  to  further  win  her 
notice,  whereat  I  chided  myself  for  a  vain  coxcomb, 
and  drew  imperceptibly  away  from  the  company,  until  I 
gained  a  shady  and  secluded  walk  which  led  to  a  retired 
nook  overlooking  the  valley. 

The  quietude  of  the  evening's  close  jarred  on  my  tur- 
bulence of  spirit.  For  the  first  time  a  woman's  voice  lin- 
gered in  my  ears  after  her  speech  was  done,  a  woman's 
smile  played  as  the  fitful  summer's  lightning  before  my 
eyes.  Oh,  fool,  fool!  What  place  had  women  in  a 
soldier's  life.  What  a  discordant  harmony  would  one 
angel  create  amid  the  rough  denizens  of  Biloxi.  So  I 
reasoned,  forgetful  that  reasons  never  yet  convinced  the 
heart. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   UNEXPECTED 

AS  one  who  pauses  at  the  threshold  of  some  fabled 
palace  of  the  houri,  so  did  I  stop,  bewildered  by 
the  beauty  of  this  virgin  field  of  love,  by  fancy  decked 
with  blossoms,  now  spreading  all  the  allurements  of  fet- 
terless imaginings  before  me.  A  sudden  whiff  brought 
me  the  perfume  of  her  presence,  and,  turning,  she  ap- 
peared before  me,  whether  in  the  spirit  or  the  flesh,  I 
could  hardly  tell,  so  transported  was  I  by  the  swift 
changes  of  my  thought,  merging  beauties  ever  new,  ever 
sparkling,  with  thosescarce  tasted  ones  butjustdiscarded. 
Yet  there  she  was,  a  dainty  thing  in  white.  White  of 
dress,  white  of  face,  white  of  spirit. 

In  frightened  tones  of  far-away  sweetness,  her  voice 
mingled  with  the  air,  so  low,  so  melodious  one  could 
scarce  determine  when  she  commenced  to  speak. 

"Monsieur,  quick,  listen.  You  are  in  danger.  I 
was  in  Madame  de  Chartrain's  chamber  and  overheard. 
You  have  letters.  M.  de  Greville  will  take  them  from 
you — for  her  sake — they  compromise  her.  There  is 
other  danger,"  she  spoke  breathlessly  on,  "other  more 
deadly  danger  lurking  for  you  here ;  I  beseech  you  to 
(173) 


174  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

leave — at  once.  M.  de  Greville  will  take  those  letters 
from  you  by  force  or  guile.  Oh,  tarry  not,  there  has 
been  so  much  of  blood,  and  this  place  so  seeming  fair; 
the  assassin,  the  poison  and  prison  houses." 

The  eloquence  of  fear  trembled  in  her  words.  Half 
starting  forward  I  drank  in  every  syllable,  not  for  the 
warning  she  would  fain  convey,  but  for  their  sweetness. 
All  I  could  realize  for  the  moment  was  that  she  had 
sought  me,  sought  me  freely.  Then  she  was  gone. 
Swiftly,  noiselessly  as  she  came,  she  disappeared.  The 
distant  flutter  of  her  skirts  among  the  sombre  trees 
marked  the  path  she  went.  Through  it  all  I  spoke  no 
word,  returning,  as  one  who  has  received  an  angel's 
visit,  to  my  reverie. 

I  was  not  suffered  long  to  spend  my  time  alone.  The 
old  beau,  de  Virelle,  in  his  bluff  and  hearty  way  di- 
rected the  attention  of  a  party  of  ladies  who  were  with 
him  to  where  I  hung  over  a  marble  balustrade  enrap- 
tured at  the  broad  expanse  of  valley,  rosy  tinted  with 
the  hues  of  ebbing  light,  boundless  as  the  dim  horizon 
of  my  own  sweet  dreams. 

"By  my  faith,  Captain,  you  should  have  heard  the 
clamor  over  your  departure.  Already  famous,  and  so 
soon  weary  of  your  laurels.  Ah!  a  tryst,"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Verily  you  do  better  than  I  thought,"  for 
he  had  picked  up  a  muslin  handkerchief,  edged  with 
lace,  which  sought  in  vain  to  hide  itself  among  the 
leaves.  So  busied  had  I  been  it  escaped  my  notice. 
Instinctively  I  reclaimed  the  prize  and  with  no  gentle 


THE    UNEXPECTED  175 

hand  I  doubt,  for  his  touch  and  jeering  manner  dese- 
crated the  sacred  relic  of  my  vanished  saint. 

De  Virelle  scowled  somewhat  at  my  precipitation,  but, 
meeting  a  no  less  determined  air,  passed  the  matter  by. 
His  ladies  affected  not  to  see.  They  in  their  turn  plied 
me  with  inquiries  about  the  savages  in  America,  asked 
all  manner  of  silly  questions,  and  completed  with  their 
foolish  simperings  the  disgust  I  already  felt  at  such  an 
interruption  to  my  thought.  Yet  so  great  is  the  force 
of  novelty  to  women  they  clung  about  me  as  if  I  were 
some  strange  tame  animal  brought  to  Paris  for  their  di- 
vertisement. 

"Zounds,  Margot  dear,"  de  Virelle  blurted  out  aside, 
for  even  his  dull  senses  saw  I  was  not  pleased,  "our 
good  Moliere  must  have  had  this  hermit  captain  in  his 
mind  when  he  made  Alceste  to  rail  so  at  the  hypocri- 
sies of  the  world,  and  urge  the  telling  of  truth  and  look- 
ing of  truth  at  all  times." 

"How  brutally  frank!  What  bad  breeding,"  as- 
sented that  young  woman. 

'  'This  captain  seems  so  full  of  weariness  at  our  coming, 
and  lacks  the  grace  to  veil  it  decently;  let  us  go." 

Finding  no  hand  of  mine  raised  to  hinder  them,  these 
fair  dames  and  demoiselles,  with  many  pretty  pouts  and 
flutters  and  flounces,  betook  themselves  away,  followed 
by  their  faithful  squire. 

I  began  then  to  feel  sorry  at  having  disgraced 
Jerome's  gentle  teachings.  The  light  dying  away 
across  the  distant  fields  and  streams,  I  resigned  my  sol- 
itary communion  and  set  out  slowly  toward  the  villa. 


1/6  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

The  meaning  of  all  the  girl  had  said  now  forced  itself 
upon  my  attention.  If  this  were  true,  and  it  seemed 
plausible  enough  in  view  of  all  that  had  transpired  here, 
I  was  indeed  confronted  by  a  new  and  serious  danger. 
Happily  danger  was  not  a  new  fellow-traveler ;  I  merely 
turned  over  in  my  mind  the  best  means  to  meet  it. 

Going  rather  out  of  my  way,  I  found  the  grooms 
without  much  difficulty,  and  telling  them  we  were  to 
leave  Sceaux  at  once,  ordered  the  horses  saddled,  and 
made  ready  at  a  side  door  where  I  directed  them  to 
wait.  My  own  mind  was  to  tell  Jerome  nothing  of  it, 
but  simply  to  mount  the  best  horse  and  ride  away  alone 
— if  that  course  became  necessary. 

###*•## 

I  will  break  in  a  bit  just  here  to  speak  of  an  incident 
which  occurred  that  very  night  in  the  modest  boudoir 
of  Madame  de  la  Mora.  Had  I  but  known  of  it  at  the 
time,  it  would  have  saved  me  many  weary  months  of 
suffering. 

Madame  Agnes  de  la  Mora  sat  placidly,  her  work 
basket  by  her  side,  busied  about  some  lace  she  was 
mending.  The  Chevalier  studied  a  number  of  military 
maps  of  Louisiana  at  his  table.  It  was  a  pretty  picture 
of  domestic  harmony,  then  quite  unfashionable  at 
Sceaux.  A  timid  rap  at  the  door,  and  a  voice: 

"Sister,  may  I  come  in?" 

"Yes,  child,"  and  her  sister  Charlotte  slipped  silently 
in  and  sat  herself  upon  the  floor  at  Madame's  feet. 
There  was  a  striking  similarity  between  the  two.  Mad- 
ame, for  all  her  dignified  title,  being  but  a  year  the 


THE  UNEXPECTED  177 

elder,  and  she  scant  of  twenty.  Charlotte,  somewhat 
slighter  and  more  delicately  colored,  was  even  of  greater 
beauty  than  her  sister,  with  much  promise  for  the  years 
to  come.  To  the  casual  observer,  though,  especially 
when  viewed  apart,  they  seemed  almost  reflections  one 
of  the  other.  There  was  something  of  a  loving  guard- 
ianship in  the  attitude  of  the  elder,  of  confiding  trust  in 
that  of  the  younger,  as  she  leaned  her  head  upon  her 
sister's  knee  in  pensive  meditation. 

"Sister,  I  must  tell  you  of  something;  I  know  not 
that  I  did  well  or  ill,"  and  she  lifted  her  face  with  a 
surety  of  sympathy. 

"What  is  it,  dear,  what  weighty  matter  troubles  you 
now?" 

The  Chevalier  looked  up  long  enough  to  say  : 

"Have  you  torn  your  frock,  or  only  quarreled  again 
with  the  good  Abbe  over  your  task?"  The  girl  very 
evidently  had  nothing  to  fear  from  his  harshness. 

"No!  No!  Don't  tease;  it's  really  important. 
This  day  at  noon  Madame  Chartrain  was  in  her  cham- 
ber— you  know  the  young  man  who  came  with  M. 
Jerome?"  de  la  Mora  nodded. 

"The  same  I  ran  into  at  the  door?"  and  she  flushed 
again  at  the  memory  of  our  discomfiture. 

"Well,  to-day  noon  at  Madam  Chartrain's  I  heard 
that  danger  threatened  him  concerning  some  papers  or 
something  which  he  has — and  Madame  du  Maine,  too, 
they  mean  him  harm;  and — and — well,  I  told  him. 
Did  I  do  ill,  sister?" 
12— BLACK  Wowr 


1/8  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"What  is  that,  Charlotte?     Come  here." 

She  crossed  the  room  obediently  and  stood  before 
him. 

The  Chevalier  asked :  "How  did  it  happen,  child? 
Tell  me  all  about  it,  where  you  saw  him,  who  was  there, 
and  all." 

So  she  went  on  to  tell  of  her  seeking  me  in  the  park, 
and  her  hurried  warning. 

"Well,  what  did  he  say  to  all  that?" 

"He  didn't  say  anything;  I  gave  him  no  chance;  I 
just  ran  up  near  him  and  told  him  as  quick  as  ever  I 
could  that  he  had  better  go  off  somewhere,  and  then — 
and  then — well,  I  just  ran  away  again.  He  looked  so 
startled  and  surprised  he  could  not  say  anything.  When 
I  turned  again  to  peep  through  the  hedge  he  was  still 
standing  there  with  his  hands  stretched  out  as  if  he 
would  have  liked  to  stop  me,  but  I  was  already  gone." 

The  girl  laughed  a  short  little  laugh  and  tucked  her 
hand  closer  into  his. 

"Did  I  do  wrong,  Charles?  Tell  me,  was  it  so  very, 
very — bold?" 

The  Chevalier  could  not  quite  suppress  the  smile  al- 
ready twitching  at  his  lips,  though  he  soon  looked  grave 
enough. 

"Yes,  child,  it  was  not  well;  beside,  the  affair  is  not 
yours,  and  it  is  always  dangerous  to  meddle.  There, 
now,  don't  worry,  it  does  not  matter  much  after  all. 
Soon  we  leave  here  and  you  will  never  see  any  of  them 
again,  I  hope.  This  is  no  place  for  lassies  fair  and 


THE  UNEXPECTED  1/9 

young  as  you.  I  hope  to  take  both  you  and  Agnes  to 
a  new  and  purer  land." 

"Soon  we  leave?"  she  repeated,  "oh,  I  forgot;  but 
I  don't  want  to,  I  like  it  here." 

"Like  it?     I  thought  you  hated  Sceaux?" 

"Yes,  I  did— but— " 

"But,  what?" 

"But,  nothing,  I  just  like  it — now,"  she  insisted  illog- 
ically. 

"Who  is  this  young  man,  Charles?"  asked  Agnes 
when  her  sister  had  gone.  And  he  told  her. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE    FLIGHT   FROM    SCEAUX. 

THE  responsibility  brought  by  the  possession  of  such 
valuable  state  papers  oppressed  me  greatly,  to 
say  nothing  of  the  perils  which  would  beset  their  custo- 
dian if  it  became  Jerome's  purpose  to  reclaim  them.  I 
thought  it  most  prudent  and  proper  under  present  con- 
ditions to  see  the  dispatches  safe  in  deSerigny's  hands — 
then,  at  least,  I  would  be  absolved  from  any  blame  in 
the  matter.  Serigny  held  me  responsible,  and  it  would 
perhaps  be  the  part  of  wisdom  to  act  independently  of 
Jerome,  report  fully  to  Serigny,  and  if  it  were  then  his 
wish  that  the  investigation  concerning  Yvard  and  Mad- 
ame du  Maine  be  pressed  to  further  discoveries,  nothing 
would  be  easier  than  to  return  to  Paris  almost  before  Je- 
rome could  miss  me.  I  need  tell  Serigny  nothing  of 
my  suspicion  of  Jerome;  even  if  true,,  his  animosity 
would  vanish  with  the  cause  which  gave  it  birth. 

There  was  much  to  acquaint  Serigny  with,  much  per- 
chance he  knew  already.  Paris  swarmed  with  rumors. 
Every  lip  was  busy  with  second-hand  gossip  coming,  as 
each  relator  declared,  from  the  most  reliable  sources. 
"My  cousin,  who  is  laundress  to  the  Countess  de  La- 
nois,  says,"  and  upon  this  immaculate  authority  the 
(180) 


THE   FLIGHT   FROM   SCEAUX  l8l 

butcher  upon  his  morning  rounds  detailed  the  most  de- 
lightful and  impossible  gossip  to  his  customers. 

"Pierre,  my  son,  the  valet,  who  is  in  the  confidence 
of  the  Duke  of  Gesvres,  heard  His  Grace  say  with  his 
own  lips" — and  so  the  wine-room  stories  flew,  gath- 
ering strength  and  falsehood  as  they  went.  But  the 
story  of  to-day  gave  the  lie  to  that  of  yesterday,  and  no 
man  knew  the  truth. 

War  with  Spain  filled  every  mouth,  yet  none  had  a 
why  or  a  wherefore.  The  King  said  "war,"  and  all  his 
nation  echoed.  No,  not  all.  Many  there  were  who 
gave  voice  to  the  cry  with  hearts  that  rebelled,  with 
clear  brains  questioning  the  right  of  one  man  to  plunge 
a  whole  people  into  renewed  slaughter.  These  held  their 
peace  for  the  sake  of  their  necks.  "/  am  the  State," 
Louis  had  declared,  and  such  ideas  were  not  for  the 
canaille  to  have ;  they  must  curb  their  tongues  to  cheat 
the  gibbet.  Being  a  soldier  and  under  orders,  I  had  no 
right  to  form  opinions,  but,  sobered  in  some  degree  by 
these  reflections,  paced  about  until  it  came  time  to  take 
horse  and  away. 

"In  the  name  of  the  wandering  Ulysses,  Placide, 
where  have  you  been  these  two  good  hours?"  said 
Jerome,  suddenly  coming  toward  me. 

"Has  it  been  so  long?  I  tired  of  the  crowd  and 
strolled  alone  through  the  gardens." 

His  quick  eye  caught  sight  of  the  handkerchief 
tucked  snugly  in  my  belt. 

"A  lady?     And  so  soon?"  he  bantered  me. 

My  tell-tale  flush  permitted  no  denial,  nor  did  I  care 


1 82  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

to  discuss  it.  As  we  talked  we  drifted  into  a  small  room 
just  off  the  main  hall. 

"By  the  way,  Placide,  had  we  better  not  place  our 
dispatches  in  some  safe  hiding  until  we  leave  here?  It 
might  be  suspected  we  have  them.  The  devil  only 
knows  what  that  scheming  de  Valence  and  du  Maine  may 
not  unearth.  Their  spies  are  everywhere." 

I  agreed  with  him.  It  was  as  well;  anything  to  gain 
time  and  allay  suspicion.  But  I  understood  my  lady's 
warning  was  true;  his  earnestness  convinced  me. 

"Where  do  you  carry  them?" 

"Sewn  in  the  lining  of  my  cloak,"  I  replied.  A  lie, 
but  pardonable. 

"Why,  you  careless  fellow ;  they  tuaybe  lost.  Where 
is  your  cloak?"  seeing  I  did  not  have  it. 

"In  charge  of  Damien;  he  is  trusty." 

"Better  have  it  yourself;  wait  here,  I  will  go  and 
fetch  it." 

I  congratulated  myself  on  this  diplomatic  stroke,  for 
Jerome  was  about  to  start  off  in  all  haste  when  Damien 
himself  appeared,  and  before  I  could  stop  him,  deliv- 
ered the  message. 

"The  horses  are  saddled  and  at  the  door/' 

"Go  and  wait  with  them." 

Jerome  had  taken  my  cloak  from  the  fellow's  arm,  for 
in  fact  he  had  •'*.,  and  now  laid  it  across  his  knee.  His 
blank  expression  showed  utter  astonishment  at  the  dis- 
closure 

"What  does  this  rrean?  We  are  to  rest  here  to- 
night?" 


THE   FLIGHT   FROM   SCEAUX  .183 

"No;  I  ride  to  Paris." 

"Why?" 

"I  am  afraid." 

"Of  what?" 

"Of  everything.  We  are  in  the  house  of  our  enemies, 
and  it  is  the  quality  of  courage  to  be  discreet." 

During  this  brief  dialogue  Jerome  was  stealthily  run- 
ning his  hands  through  the  lining  of  my  cloak  until  he 
comprehended  I  had  misled  him.  I  could  almost  put 
his  thought  in  words.  Together  we  arose,  laying  each 
our  hands  upon  the  half-closed  door,  he  to  hold  it,  I  to 
open  it,  steady-eyed,  and  each  reluctant  to  cause  the 
breach  we  knew  must  come. 

"Placide,  the  papers  are  not  here,"  he  said  in  a  quiet 
tone,  yet  full  of  determination. 

"I  know  it." 

"Why  have  you  deceived  me  then?"  for  he  could 
mask  his  purposes  no  longer,  "Hand  me  those  dis- 
patches." 

"No.  My  orders  are  to  place  them  in  the  hands  of 
Serigny." 

"But  I  must  have  them." 

"And  I  tell  you  as  firmly,  you  can  not." 

"Listen,  Captain,"  he  begged  in  altered  tones, 
"those  dispatches  may  compromise  Celeste.  Let  us 
take  from  them  anything  which  implicates  her  in  this  mis- 
erable intrigue,  and  deliver  the  rest.  That  is  easy.  I 
can  open  and  close  them  again  so  it  can  not  be  told." 
.  "My  orders  are  not  to  open  them." 

"By  God,  you  will  !"'he  burst  out  with  volcanic  fury, 


1 84  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"no,  no;  lam  too  hot.  We  can  lose  them;  tell  Se- 
rigny  they  were  never  found ;  tell  him  Yvard  carried 
them  off;  tell  him  he  never  had  them.  We  can  fix  a 
tale." 

"It  would  be  a  long  story,  and  a  liar  must  needs  have 
a  good  memory." 

I  was  playing  for  time,  time  to  think,  time  to  get 
away. 

"But  I  will  go  with  you  to  Serigny,"  he  insisted,  "tell 
the  lie  and  make  him  to  believe.  'Pshaw,  man,  you 
know  not  the  ways  of  the  world,  at  least  not  at  the  Court 
of  France." 

"Think,  Jerome,  of  the  war,  of  our  people  in  the  col- 
onies, of  our  honor?" 

"I  care  not  for  it  all,"  the  wild  passion  in  his  voice 
made  me  almost  fear  him.  "All  that  is  as  nothing  to 
me  where  Celeste  is  concerned.  Oh,  Placide,  think  of 
it !  I  love  her,  love  her,  love  her — do  you  comprehend 
what  that  means  to  such  a  man  as  I?  I,  who  have 
loved  her  almost  from  her  birth,  have  seen  her  taken 
from  me  and  sold — yes,  sold  by  her  money-loving  father, 
sold,  sold!  I,  who  have  borne  all  her  husband's  leers 
when,  flushed  with  the  insolence  of  rank  and  wine,  this 
shriveled  bridegroom  bore  her  as  a  piece  of  ornament 
to  his  house  in  Paris.  Can  I  bear  to  lose  her  now? 

"But,  Jerome,  you  would  not  be  such  a  coward  as  to 
permit  our  brethren  in  the  colonies  to  be  slaughtered, 
while  you  tell  your  pitiful  lie  to  shield  a  woman?  It 
can  not  be  done.  What  a  fool  you  ore  come  to  be.  Man, 
max,  where  is  your  courage?" 


THE   FLIGHT   FROM   SCEAUX  185 

"I  care  not.  Love  for  such  a  woman  would  make  of 
Truth  a  liar,  and  of  Jove  a  fool.  Think,  Placide,  think 
of  her,  Celeste,  in  the  Bastille,  the  irons  cutting  into  her 
delicate  hands,  those  hands  which  I  have  so  fondly  held 
within  my  own — the  cold  stones  for  her  bed.  Or,  worse : 
The  block,  the  headsman  and  the  jeering  rabble.  Have 
you  no  feeling,  man?  Suppose  there  was  some  woman 
whom  you  loved — a  guilty  love,  I  grant — but  so  strong, 
so  deep,  so  overpowering,  you  could  not  master  it?  Sup- 
pose she  were  threatened,  would  you  not  protect  her  even 
if  you  lost  your  life;  yea,  bartered  away  your  honor?" 

A  pale  little  tearful  face  thrust  itself  before  me  as  he 
spoke,  and  I  knew  my  own  weak  heart.  I  confess  his 
pleading  staggered  me,  and  I  hesitated.  He  came 
closer ;  all  the  love  and  fear  of  a  strong  and  desperate 
man  wove  itself  into  his  words. 

"Could  you  only  have  seen  her  two  hours  ago  when 
you  left  her  chamber ;  have  heard  her  sobs,  felt  the  trem- 
ble of  her  heart  when  she  threw  herself,  just  as  when  a  child 
she  used  to  do,  into  my  arms  pleading  for  protection! 
Those  dispatches  will  ruin  her.  She  so  calm,  so  proud, 
so  brave  to  all  the  world,  wept  like  a  terrified  baby  upon 
my  breast.  Placide,  I'd  die  and  go  to  hell  to  save  her. 
She  so  cold  and  pure,  her  very  name  is  a  reproach  to  this 
flock  of  butterfly  women.  This  woman  loves  me,  loves  me 
even  though  that  love  be  what  men  call  dishonor.  Bah  !  I 
hate  the  word.  Her  father  never  sold  her  heart.  No, 
that  was  mine,  forever  mine.  Had  I  but  foreseen  this  I'd 
have  left  you  rotting  in  Bertrand's  dungeon.  No,  no. 


1 36  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Placide,  I  meant  it  not;  I'm  not  myself;  forgive  me, 
comrade;  pity  her  and  pity  me." 

I  vaguely  wondered  what  there  could  be  in  the  packet 
to  cause  him  so  sincere  an  apprehension.  But  I  must 
think  of  my  people  and  be  strong.  I  denied  him  once 
for  all  He  sprang  at  me  with  the  fury  of  a  demon.  Be- 
ing the  cooler  and  stronger,  I  threw  him  off  easily  and 
reached  the  door  as  he  came  again  with  his  sword.  It 
was  a  delicate  predicament.  I  could  easily  kill  him. 
Wild  with  a  lover's  fear,  he  left  his  front  open  to  my 
blade,  but  I'd  had  enough  of  death.  He  paused  to 
shove  a  table  from  his  path,  which  gave  me  time  to  open 
and  slip  through  the  door. 

In  a  moment  he  rushed  out  behind  me,  pale  and 
panting.  The  corridor,  deserted,  echoed  to  our  flying 
steps.  I  ran  on  ahead  making  my  way  toward  the 
horses.  Meeting  people  outside,  we  had  to  slacken  our 
gait,  smile,  and  conceal  the  realities  of  the  situation, 
the  necessity  for  which  he  apprehended  as  quickly  as  I. 

Four  horses  stood  ready,  and  choosing  the  one  I 
thought  best  fitted  for  a  hard  chase — it  was  evident  we 
could  not  afford  to  fight  it  out  at  Sceaux — and  to  fight 
seemed  now  his  purpose — I  vaulted  lightly  into  the  sad- 
dle, and  before  Jerome  could  hinder,  had  jumped  the 
low  wall  and  taken  the  direct  road  to  Paris. 

Practiced  horseman  as  Jerome  was,  it  took  him  no 
time  to  follow,  and  his  grooms  joined  in  the  chase. 

On,  on,  we  sped.  Trees,  fences,  walls  and  people 
all  melted  into  one  motley  and  indistinguishable  stream. 
In  the  open  road  we  strung  out,  according  to  the  speed 


THE   FLIGHT   FROM   SCEAUX  1 87 

of  our  mounts,  one  of  the  grooms  dropping  farther  and 
farther  in  the  rear.  The  distance  between  Jerome  and 
myself,  despite  his  frantic  belaborings  of  his  brave  steed, 
grew  steadily  greater. 

Just  before  we  passed  a  crooked  lane  off  to  the  left, 
leading  whither  I  knew  not,  Jerome  turned  in  his  sad- 
dle and  called  to  the  two  grooms  now  well  to  the  rear. 

"That  way  quick;  to  the  Versailles  road.  Cut  him 
off." 

The  fellows  obeyed,  reining  their  horses  into  a  swing- 
ing lope,  as,  less  hurried,  they  took  the  lane  indicated. 
Jerome  thence  rode  on  after  me  alone.  The  situation 
was  now  becoming  awkward.  I  had  acted  without  cool 
consideration  heretofore,  taking  the  Paris  road  because 
it  was  the  only  one  I  knew,  and  trusting  thereafter 
largely  to  fortune.  Now,  as  I  caught  occasional 
glimpses  of  the  city  spires,  the  towers  of  Notre  Dame,  I 
must  perforce  remember  I  had  no  hopes  from  them. 
The  crazed  man  behind  knew  the  city  well,  while  to  me 
it  was  a  labyrinth  of  difficulty.  I  had  no  friends,  while 
he  counted  many.  I  must  act,  and  that  quickly.  Had 
I  but  known  enough  to  turn  down  that  lane  into  the 
Versailles  road  I  could  have  reached  the  palace  without 
molestation,  thanks  to  my  good  luck  in  picking  the  best 
horse  of  the  lot.  Thinking  of  the  lane  brought  an  idea 
which  promised  well. 

Moderating  my  speed  gradually  I  suffered  Jerome  to 
draw  nearer.  I  then  called  over  my  shoulder  that  as 
we  were  now  man  to  man,  we  might  dismount  and  fight 
it  out  upon  a  piece  of  level  sward  beside  the  road.  His 


1 88  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

horse  was  nearly  spent,  and  inflamed  to  fury  by  the  fear 
of  my  escape,  he  eagerly  agreed.  While  we  parleyed, 
I  worked  myself  into  a  position  near  his  horse's  head, 
and  as  he  prepared  to  alight,  snatched  my  sword  and 
with  a  quick  upper  cut  severed  one  rein  near  the  bit. 
The  blade  having  cut  his  horse  slightly  under  his  throat, 
he  reared  and  plunged,  and  finding  himself  uncontrolled 
started  madly  off  down  the  road,  Jerome  cursing, 
screaming  and  clinging  to  his  mane. 

I  had  to  laugh  at  the  success  of  my  stratagem,  for 
though  it  was  a  scurvy  trick  to  play  an  old  friend,  it  was 
much  the  simplest  way  out  of  the  difficulty  to  dispose 
of  him  in  this  bloodless  fashion.  I  put  my  horse  about 
now  without  interference.  When  I  wheeled  down  the 
lane  toward  Versailles,  Jerome's  clatter  and  dust  was 
just  dying  away  over  the  crest  of  a  distant  hill,  making 
most  excellent  time  in  the  direction  of  Paris. 

Now  that  this  new  danger  was  past,  I  rode  on  heavy- 
hearted  enough,  for  I  had  grown  to  love  Jerome,  and 
blamed  him  little  for  his  sudden  touch  of  fury.  For  I 
was  nearly  in  the  same  boat,  borne  on  by  the  same 
strong  currents  as  Jerome. 

Verily,  what  will  man  not  do  for  woman?  Love  had 
turned  him  from  a  courteous  nobleman  of  France,  a 
brave  and  kindly  gentleman,  into  the  frenzied  coward 
who  would  lie  to  his  master,  slay  his  friend,  and  turn 
traitor  to  his  countrymen.  A  god  could  not  love  and 
be  wise. 

I  jogged  along  slowly,  seeking  to  rest  my  horse,  for 
I  could  not  tell  how  soon  I  must  look  to  his  speed  for 


"...  With  a  quick  upper  cut  I  severed  one  rein  near  the  bit."    p. 


THE   FLIGHT   FROM   SCEAUX  189 

safety.  It  was  necessary  also  that  I  should  see  the  two 
fellows  who  watched  the  Versailles  road  before  they 
caught  sight  of  me  Possibly  an  artifice  might  avail  me 
where  force  would  fail. 

Presently  from  a  slight  eminence  the  broad  highway 
could  be  seen  winding  out  of  Paris,  glistening  in  the 
starlight,  for  it  was  now  after  dusk,  twisting  in  dusty 
undulations  toward  the  distant  palace  of  the  King.  I 
drew  rein  among  some  trees  which  served  for  shelter, 
and  scanned  the  way  to  see  if  the  watchers  were  in 
sight.  The  lane,  before  it  entered  the  Versailles  road, 
branched  out  into  two  portions,  one  bearing  away  to- 
ward Paris,  while  the  other  traversed  a  piece  of  low 
ground  that  struck  the  main  road  several  hundred  yards 
in  the  other  direction.  Within  the  irregular  triangle 
thus  formed  the  two  grooms  had  thrown  themselves 
upon  the  ground,  being  distinctly  visible  in  a  little  clear- 
ing. 

Their  position  commanded  quite  a  considerable  stretch 
of  road  toward  the  city,  and  as  by  going  that  way  it 
would  take  a  good  hour  and  a  half  of  hard  riding  to  get  so 
far,  it  was  certain  they  did  not  expect  me  to  pass  for 
some  time.  That  cut-off  through  the  lane  must  have 
been  ten  miles  the  shorter  journey. 

This  reflection  gave  me  some  hope  that  I  might  be 
able  to  slip  by  in  a  gallop  before  they  could  take  horse. 
Yet  I  could  not  afford  to  waste  much  time,  for  Jerome 
might  perchance  find  means  to  follow,  and  would  not  be 
in  a  pleasant  humor.  There  could  be  no  accounting  for 


I9O  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

the  lengths  to  which  his  desperation  and  folly  might 
carry  him.      I  had  need  for  both  haste  and  caution. 

I  was  now  at  the  top  of  a  slight  hillock,  the  grooms 
resting  at  the  foot.  As  ill  fortune  would  have  it,  my 
horse's  hoof  loosened  a  stone,  and  one  of  them  looking  up 
recognized  my  figure  clear  drawn  against  the  fading 
colors  of  the  sky.  They  both  j  umped  up  with  an  alertness 
which  would  have  done  credit  to  old  woodsmen,  and  be- 
fore I  could  dodge  by,  had  remounted  and  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  road.  My  more  elevated  position  and  perhaps 
better  hearing,  too,  enabled  me  to  detect  the  coming  of 
persons  along  the  road  from  Paris.  Certainly  as  many 
as  three  or  four  horsemen,  perhaps  a  vehicle.  It  could 
hardly  be  possible  that  Jerome  had  made  the  trip  so 
quickly,  yet  I  did  not  know  what  other  and  shorter  way 
he  might  find.  At  any  rate  every  instant  intensified  the 
danger,  for  if  it  were  Jerome,  then,  indeed,  I  could  not 
hope  to  make  Versailles  that  night. 

Listening  more  critically  I  decided  they  were  travel- 
ling too  slowly  to  be  Jerome's  party. 
.  I  would  then  most  gladly  have  charged  the  insolents 
in  front  and  taken  all  chances,  but  my  half  hour  of  quiet 
thought  had  brought  me  the  conclusion  it  was  too  much 
to  risk  my  life,  at  least  until  Serigny  was  acquainted  with 
the  information  we  had  gained.  I,  too,  was  the  only 
person  who  knew  of  the  traitors  on  board  le  Dauphin. 

"Who  are  you,  and  what  do  you  mean  stopping  a 
gentleman's  path?"  I  called  to  the  twain  who  had 
drawn  a  little  away  from  the  foot  of  the  hill  seeing  the 


THE   FLIGHT    FROM    SCEAUX  19 1 

disadvantage  of  their  former  position  in  case  I  charged 
them,  and  preferring  to  receive  me  on  the  open  ground. 

"No  harm,  Monsieur,  we  only  mean  to  detain  you 
until  M.  de  Greville  comes  up,"  the  slender  man  spoke 
quite  politely. 

"M.  de  Greville  will  not  come  up  this  night — may 
God  have  mercy  on  his  soul,"  I  added  solemnly. 

"Why  not,  fine  sir?"  the  gruffer  fellow  on  the  big 
bay  questioned  with  some  heat.  I  made  no  quibble  on 
his  manner,  but  replied: 

"I  doubt  I  have  slain  him.  He  lies  back  yonder  in 
the  road  to  Sceaux,  and  I  know  not  whether  he  be  dead 
or  still  lives." 

They  hesitated  and  consulted  together  in  a  low  tone; 
I  saw  my  opportunity  to  press  their  indecision. 

"What  excuse  can  you  make  and  what  authority  have 
you  for  halting  an  officer  of  the  King  with  dispatches 
to  the  King?  With  M.  Jerome  de  Greville  to  stand  be- 
tween you  and  harm  it  was  dangerous  enough ;  now  it 
is  a  matter  of  hanging." 

"But  M.  de  Greville  is  not  dead,"  they  protested 
together,  "we  left  him  a  few  minutes  since  alive  and 
well."  I  seized  upon  the  vacillation  manifest  in  their 
voices  and  proceeded  with  confidence  . 

"Then  how  think  you  I  came  along  this  road?  Think 
you  M.  Jerome  would  let  me  go  so  easily?  You  know 
his  temper  too  well.  Does  he  change  his  mind  like  a 
woman?  I  turned  about  to  take  the  nearer  path,  and 
see,  his  blood  is  not  yet  dry  upon  my  sword." 

"We  do  not  believe  you.     It  is  some  trick." 


192  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

"If  you  will  but  move  this  way  and  give  me  clear 
passage  to  Versailles,  I  will  go  and  say  nothing.  You 
can  then  return  and  minister  to  your  master." 

"Nay,  we'll  hold  the  road  an  hour,  which  gives  him 
time  to  come  up.  An  hour  gone  and  you  may  pursue 
your  journey." 

"Then,  forsooth,  one  of  you  can  make  his  peace  with 
God.  I'll  shoot  your  stoutest  bully  and  try  blades 
with  the  other." 

I  raised  the  pistol  which  had  been  concealed  unknown 
to  Jerome,  and  to  say  the  truth,  it  looked  formidable 
enough  all  a-glitter  beneath  the  rising  moon,  though 
I  doubted  much  if  I  could  strike  my  mark. 

As  I  started  resolutely  onward  I  warned  them: 
"Pull  your  nags  off  in  yonder  level  space,  leave  the  left 
fork  free,  or  by  the  gods,  you  burly  black-haired  ras- 
cal, I'll  take  the  first  shot  at  you,  you  make  the  fairest 
target.  Way  there,  in  the  King's  name!" 

As  is  ever  so  with  low-born  churls,  and  no  gentle- 
man to  command,  each  looked  to  the  other  for  some  act 
of  heroism,  and  each  sought  his  own  safety. 

They  stood  their  ground  only  an  instant,  then  pulled 
aside  as  I  had  bidden  them.  As  soon  as  I  passed  them 
a  decent  distance  as  if  I  had  no  fear,  I  put  spurs  to  my 
good  steed,  and,  breathing  more  freely  than  I  had  done 
for  many  days,  heard  the  merry  pounding  of  his  hoofs 
upon  the  open  way  to  my  mission's  end. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

SERIGNY'S  DEPARTURE 

THE  clocks  were  striking,  one  after  the  other  in  mo- 
notonous imitative  fashion,  the  hour  of  nine  when 
I  delivered  my  horse  to  a  sleepy  groom  at  the  little  tav- 
ern just  outside  the  Versailles  gate. 

Serigny  was  already  in  his  rooms,  intent  on  some 
business,  and  opened  his  door  himself.  There  was  no 
need  for  concealing  his  gratification  and  the  intense  im- 
patience he  felt  to  know  results,  nor  did  he  make  any 
attempt  at  concealment.  On  the  contrary,  he  was  as 
urgent  as  a  school  child.  Everything  about  him,  packed 
in  boxes  and  traveling  bags,  seemed  prepared  for  in- 
stant journey.  Upon  his  table  a  few  disarranged  papers 
were  scattered  beside  a  leathern  portfolio,  through 
which  he  had  evidently  been  looking  when  I  arrived. 
Without  stopping  to  replace  any  of  the  documents  he 
hastened  me  to  a  seat,  and  drawing  his  chair  close,  com- 
manded me  to  begin.  My  coming  had  been  so  sudden 
I  had  given  no  consideration  to  the  nature  of  my  report 
to  Serigny,  and  found  some  difficulty  in  gathering  ideas 
together  in  such  shape  they  would  be  understood.  I 
had  hardly  begun  my  statement  when  quick  steps 

13-BfcACK  WOLJ  (193) 


194         THE  BLACK  WQLFS  BREED 

sounded  along  the  outer  passage  followed  by  an  almost 
imperative  knock  on  the  door.  Jerome,  I  thought.  So 
it  was.  Jerome,  bespattered  and  soiled  from  his  hard 
ride,  a  raw  bruise  across  his  cheek,  his  clothing  awry. 
He  was  pale  and  determined,  yet  quiet  withal. 

I  instinctively  rose  and  laid  my  hand  to  my  hilt.  A 
glance  reassured  me.  His  purpose,  lying  deeper,  I  could 
not  divine;  it  was  plain  though  he  brooded  not  that 
kind  of  quarrel.  Nor  do  I  to  this  day  know  what  he 
intended  when  he  first  entered  Serigny's  room  that 
night. 

"I  rode  after  you  in  all  haste,  Captain." 

"Indeed  you  did,"  I  mentally  agreed. 

"And  met  a  fall,  which,  as  you  see,  has  somewhat 
disfigured  me,"  and  he  laughed,  while  I  agreed  with 
him  again. 

Serigny,  being  so  intent  on  the  important  transactions 
of  the  hour,  accepted  his  explanation  without  question. 
The  welcome,  though  cordial,  was  brief,  Serigny  being 
a  man  of  no  unnecessary  words. 

"Go  on,  Captain,"  and  I  picked  up  the  broken 
thread  of  my  narrative  where  Jerome  had  interrupted. 

As  I  went  on  obediently,  Jerome  would  now  and 
again  supply  some  link  wherein  my  memory  failed,  or 
suggest  something  I  had  left  unsaid,  until  having  so 
much  the  nimbler  tongue  he  took  the  telling  out  of  my 
mouth  entirely.  I  could  not  complain,  for  he  detailed 
the  various  adventures  far  better  than  I,  and  gave  me 
more  of  the  credit  than  I  would  have  claimed  for  myself. 
We  had,  by  common  consent,  forgotten  pur  late  strife, 


SERIGNY'S  DEPARTURE  195 

and  becoming  much  interested  I  broke  in  upon  a  glow- 
ing account  of  my  heroism : 

"Hold,  Jerome,  by  my  faith,  you  grow  more  garru- 
lous than  a  fish-wife  of  the  barriers;  tell  but  a  plain, 
straight  tale,  and  leave  off  all  that  romantic  garniture  of 
thine,"  and  thence  I  reclaimed  my  straggling  story  and 
brought  it  to  a  conclusion.  All  this  while  the  dispatches 
for  which  we  had  risked  so  much  lay  safe  in  my  breast. 
I  rather  hesitated  to  produce  them,  dreading  what  the 
hot-headed  fellow  might  do  to  get  a  hold  upon  that 
which  peradventure  would  cause  trouble  to  his  lady  love. 
I  could  not  decline  when  Serigny  asked  for  them,  but 
hauled  out  both  packets,  one  taken  from  Yvard,  the 
other  from  Broussard,  casting  them  upon  the  table. 
Jerome  eyed  them  so  I  that  knew  from  the  look  his  late 
fury  was  not  yet  dead,  and  I  watched  him  in  readiness 
for  any  move  he  might  make  to  repossess  them. 

He  sat  as  unconcerned  as  if  the  whole  affair  interested 
him  no  further,  now  that  the  main  object  oi  his  solici- 
tude was  safe  in  the  keeping  of  his  superior.  I  mis- 
doubted whether  this  was  not  all  a  sham,  and  could 
hardly  believe  him  the  same  frenzied  Jerome  who  had 
pleaded  so  hard,  and  fought  so  desperately  for  this  self- 
same packet  of  Yvard's,  which  at  this  time  reposed 
within  easy  reach  of  his  hand.  Once  he  reached  out 
and  took  it  up  negligently,  inspected  the  seals  and 
marks,  then  replaced  it.  His  examination  seemed  one 
of  mere  idle  curiosity,  or  would  have  so  appeared  had  I 
not  known  that  he  was  already  perfectly  acquainted  with 
every  mark  borne  by  our  charge.  The  eyes,  half  closed 


196  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

in  dreamy  contemplation,  spoke  apparently  of  a  man 
who  has  been  relieved  of  some  grave  responsibility  and 
enjoys  the  relaxation,  yet,  for  all  of  that,  he  was  listen- 
ing most  intently  to  what  Serigny  and  I  were  talking  of. 
Serigny  was  now  fondling  the  instruments  which  were  to 
be  the  restoration  of  his  own  and  his  brother's  influ- 
ence. His  words  were  addressed  to  neither  of  us  in 
particular. 

"Here  is  the  seal  of  Spain.  Cellemare  again,  Egad! 
They  are  bold,  or  must  have  great  confidence  in  their 
emissaries.  Here,  too,  is  Madame.  Ah,  my  clever 
little  lady,  you  have  outdone  your  own  cleverness  at  last. 
I  fancy  even  the  King's  old  love  for  his  son's  mother 
will  not  save  you  now.  I  would  I  knew  what  was  in 
them." 

"We  can  easily  see,  and  close  them  snug  again," 
ventured  Jerome,  but  noting  Serigny's  frown,  he  turned 
it  off  with  a  laugh,  "or  so  our  friend  Madame  would 
advise." 

"It  thus  became  manifest  he  had  not  abandoned  his 
idea  of  intercepting  whatever  might  compromise  Mad- 
ame de  Chartrain. 

Serigny  continued:  "These  must  be  placed  before 
the  King  unopened  by  any  of  us.  Yes,  it's  a  risk,"  he 
caught  Jerome's  knotted  brow  of  indecision,  "I  grant 
you  it  is  a  risk,  for  I  know  not  what  complications  are 
here  contained.  I  will  myself  seek  the  King,  and  with 
these  am  sure  to  gain  his  own  ear." 

Jerome  all  this  while  uttered  no  other  word,  nervously 


SERIGNY'S   DEPARTURE  197 

flicking  the  mud  splotches  off  his  boots,  and  lifting  an 
earnest  look  now  and  anon  to  Serigny. 

My  own  mind  was  busy  devising  means  to  foil  any 
contemplated  treachery  upon  his  part,  and  wondering 
whether  it  was  not  my  duty  to  acquaint  Serigny  with 
the  whole  truth  of  the  matter.  The  test  came  when  I 
least  expected  it.  When  all  our  adventures  had  been 
detailed  again  and  again,  his  dozens  of  incisive  questions 
answered,  our  conversation  naturally  drifted  toward  the 
future.  My  mission  in  France  completed,  there  was 
nothing  now  but  a  return  to  the  colonies,  and  the  un- 
certainties of  a  campaign  which  I  no  longer  doubted 
was  imminent.  Somehow  the  thought  of  a  great  and 
glorious  war  did  not  appeal  to  me  so  forcibly  as  such  a 
prospect  would  have  done  some  few  weeks  agone. 

There  was  ever  a  shy  little  face,  a  brave  girlish  figure 
which  stood  resolute  and  trembling  before  me  in  the 
park,  that  intruded  between  me  and  the  barbaric 
splendor  of  our  western  wars.  Nor  did  I  raise  a  hand 
to  brush  the  vision  aside.  It  toned  down  the  innate 
savagery  of  man,  softened  the  stern,  callous  impulses  of 
the  soldier,  and  all  the  currents  of  my  being  trickled 
through  quieter,  sweeter  channels  of  life  and  love.  Even 
the  shame  of  it  made  not  the  thought  less  sweet. 

There  was  but  trifling  period  to  spare  for  such  gentler 
musings,  for  Serigny,  by  a  gesture,  called  attention  to 
his  well  packed  luggage. 

"See,  I  am  ready.  I  only  waited  your  coming  and 
report  to  put  out  at  once  for  le  Dauphin.  My  people 
have  already  gone  forward  to  arm  and  provision  her  for 


198  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

the  struggle.  We  must  be  prompt.  There  is  much  to 
lose  in  a  day.  I  myself  will  go  on  to-morrow  and  have 
all  in  complete  readiness  for  the  voyage,  and,  who 
knows,  for  the  fighting  on  the  other  side.  Now  give 
heed  Placide — Captain  de  Mouret, ' '  for  he  was  always 
particular  to  distinguish  the  man  from  the  soldier,  and 
in  giving  orders  to  address  me  by  my  proper  title. 
"The  war  has  been  decided  upon;  you  will  remain  here 
and  watch  developments" — he  was  proceeding  to  ac- 
quaint me  with  what  was  expected  of  me.  I  knew  not 
what  he  might  say,  but  felt  impelled  to  throw  out  a 
silent  warning,  which  even  though  he  understood  it  not, 
he  was  quick  enough  to  take.  He  paused  and  looked 
me  inquisitively  in  the  face.  I  glanced  awkwardly  from 
him  to  Jerome  and  back  again. 

The  thought  then  dominant  was  a  growing  distrust 
of  Jerome,  and  the  desire  to  have  our  movements  secret. 
I  remembered  Bienville's  words  "We  know  not  who  to 
trust,"  and  being  ignorant  of  what  orders  Serigny 
meant  to  give,  or  how  much  information  they  would 
convey  to  Jerome,  deemed  it  best  to  let  all  the  occur- 
rences of  the  day  come  out.  I  could  not  forget  the 
lad's  gallantry,  nor  must  I  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  as 
affairs  now  were,  he  might  very  well  have  gone  over  to 
the  other  side  for  the  sake  of  Madame ;  things  stranger 
than  that  took  place  every  day,  and  I  had  learned  to  be 
discreet.  He  might  thus  come  into  valuable  hints  and 
afterward  cast  them  into  the  scale  against  Bienville,  for 
every  means  good  or  bad  would  be  used  by  them  to 
save  their  own  influence,  to  uplift  the  Duke  of  Maine. 


SERIGNY  S   DEPARTURE  199 

If  Bienville  were  involved  in  the  general  ruin,  why,  what 
mattered  it  to  them? 

While  I  remained  hesitating  for  a  word,  Jerome's 
ready  wit  had  already  comprehended  my  purpose.  He 
took  the  words  from  my  lips.  His  countenance  first 
flushed,  then  became  hard  and  fixed,  compelling  me  for 
the  time  into  silence. 

"Monsieur  de  Serigny,  I  perhaps  can  speak  you 
better  our  good  Captain's  mind.  He  mistrusts  me — ." 

"You?"  burst  out  Serigny  greatly  surprised.  "Why 
you  have  ever  been  our  staunch  and  loyal  friend.  What 
is  this,  Captain  de  Mouret,  surely  you  are  above  a  young 
man's  jealousy?" 

Jerome  gave  me  no  time  to  explain. 

"Softly,  softly,  sir.  The  Captain  has  good  cause. 
Give  me  heed,  my  friends.  To  you,  M.  de  Serigny,  I 
will  say  upon  my  honor,  which  until  this  day  was  never 
stained  by  thought  or  deed,  I  will  say, — this  day  I  would 
have  betrayed  you.  Nay,  do  not  look  so  pained  and 
unbelieving;  all  men  are  mortal,  and  passions  stronger 
even  than  duty,  stronger  than  loyalty,  yea,  stronger 
than  honor  itself,  may  tyrannize  over  the  best  of  us.  I 
repeat,  this  day  would  I  gladly  have  betrayed  you,  be- 
trayed my  friends  to  save — well  it  boots  not  whom,  but  a 
woman.  For  the  woman  I  love  may  lose  her  liberty  if 
not  her  life  when  those  accursed  papers  reach  the  hands 
of  the  King.  I  was  mad,  and  at  this  moment  doubt  and 
fear  myself.  It  is  better  not  to  trust  me  with  your  plans ; 
the  Captain  is  right.  Jerome  de  Greville  never  yet  de- 
ceived a  friend,  but  for  the  love  of  God,  Messires,  do 


2OO  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

not  tempt  him  now,"  and  he  faced  about  with  unsteady 
step  and  started  toward  the  door.  Before  we  could  de- 
tain him  he  was  gone,  leaving  Serigny  staring  in  the 
most  unbelieving  and  bewildered  fashion  at  me." 

"In  God's  name,  Captain,  what  piece  of  folly  is  this? 
Tell  me  all,  for  ofttimes  the  success  of  the  most  careful 
plans  is  governed  by  just  such  undercurrents  as  this,  of 
man's  love  or  woman's  spite.  Go  on,  I  listen." 

I  explained  briefly  Madame's  position,  Serigny  nod- 
ding his  acquiescence;  it  was  an  old  tale  to  him,  except 
he  did  not  know  Jerome's  relations  with  Madame.  Of 
her  domination  over  the  Duke  of  Maine  he  was  well 
aware.  When  my  story  was  fully  done  he  pondered 
for  a  long  while  in  silence.  His  sorrow  was  deep  and 
sincere. 

"Poor  fellow;  poor  fellow;  as  noble  a  lad  as  ever 
drew  a  sword,  but  in  his  present  frame  of  mind  it  is 
safer  not  to  trust  him;  he  is  capable  of  any  act  of 
desperation.  We  will  do  our  best  to  protect  his  lady, 
though.  Where  was  I?  This  matter  has  disturbed  me — 
Oh,  yes,  about  to  give  your  orders.  You  see  I  am  all 
ready  to  leave.  I  have  but  waited  your  return.  The  war 
has  been  decided  on  and  the  news  needs  only  to  be  given 
out.  The  King  hesitates  and  wavers ;  Chamillard  is  a 
mere  reflection  of  the  royal  whim.  If  we  do  not  attack  the 
Spaniard  he  will  attack  us ;  it  is  simply  a  question  of 
whether  we  want  the  war  at  Biloxi  or  Havana.  For  my 
part  I  would  rather  see  Havana  in  siege  than  Biloxi. 
This  matter  can  not  be  long  delayed,  a  few  days  more 
at  most.  These  dispatches  may  decide.  With  these 


SERIGNY'S  DEPARTURE  201 

before  the  King  he  will  no  longer  doubt  my  brother,  but 
will  place  the  blame  where  it  most  properly  belongs — 
for  in  the  main,  Louis  is  just.  I  would  not  desire  any 
greater  pleasure  than  to  see  the  gibbet  whereon  these 
traitors  of  the  itching  palms,  these  thieves  who  sell  their 
King  for  Spanish  gold,  will  take  their  last  dance.  Do 
you  remain  here  for  as  many  as  six  days,  this  room  is 
at  your  disposal.  Be  quiet  and  discreet;  learn  all  and 
tell  nothing.  A  still  tongue  is  the  safest  in  these  times. 
The  moment  war  is  declared  make  all  speed  for  Dieppe 
and  we  will  up  anchor  and  away." 

Serigny  was  as  happy  as  a  boy  at  the  prospect  of  ac- 
tion ;  the  atmosphere  of  court  ill  agreed  with  his  fiery 
temper.  This  was  the  gist  of  our  plan  of  operations, 
and  it  was  so  arranged  in  detail. 

In  a  few  moments  Serigny  left  me,  taking  the  packet 
with  him,  and  I  in  excess  of  caution  followed  him  at  a 
little  distance,  locking  the  door  behind  me  and  keeping 
the  key  in  my  pocket.  I  bore  his  tall  figure  well  in 
sight  until  he  passed  out  of  the  unfrequented  halls  into 
that  portion  of  the  palace  where  the  many  shuttlecocks 
of  fortune  congregated  to  laugh  and  talk  and  plot  and 
lie.  Not  long  after  he  came  back,  sorely  nettled  and 
disappointed. 

"It  is  done;  the  King  has  them  in  his  own  hands; 
yet  he  does  not  talk ;  promises  nothing ;  is  closeted  with 
his  ministers;  they  must  be  of  considerable  importance. 
It  is  all  secure  for  us,  for  I  told  him  of  my  departure  in 
the  morning  to  the  colonies,  and  he  assented.  I  judge, 
then,  it  is  something  of  a  very  delicate  nature,  touching 


202  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

the  royal  honor  of  the  King's  own  blood.  Besides  much 
is  in  cipher  which  it  will  take  time  to  read.  Louis, 
you  know,  would  not  admit,  save  to  those  nearest  his 
throne,  the  possession  of  the  secret  Spanish  cipher." 

The  night  passed  by  dismal  and  uncertain  enough. 
I  must  confess  to  a  great  sinking  of  the  heart  when  I 
saw  Serigny's  carriage  roll  away  in  the  gray  of  the  early 
morning,  leaving  me  absolutely  alone  in  my  father's 
land  of  France,  where  in  the  short  space  of  two  weeks  so 
much  had  transpired;  much  to  be  ever  remembered, 
much  I  would  have  given  worlds  to  forget. 

It  must  have  been  a  most  forlorn  and  dejected  lock- 
ing creature  that  stood  in  the  great  square  that  sunless 
morning,  peering  into  the  mists  which  had  absorbed  the 
carriage.  The  solitude  of  vast  untrodden  forests  breeds 
not  that  vacant  sense  of  desolation  which  we  children  of 
nature  feel  in  the  crowded  haunts  of  men.  Face  after 
face,  form  after  form,  voice  after  voice,  yet  not  one 
familiar  countenance,  not  one  remembered  tone,  not  the 
glance  of  a  kindly  eye;  all  is  new,  all  is  strange,  all 
at  seeming  enmity.  The  defection  of  Jerome,  my  only 
comrade,  was  indeed  a  cup  of  bitterness.  I  dreaded  to 
meet  him,  not  knowing  what  tack  he  might  cut  away  on. 
Yet  I  could  not  blame  him ;  it  was  more  of  pity  I  felt. 

I  recall  with  great  delight  some  of  the  minor  occur- 
rences of  the  next  three  or  four  days.  After  Serigny's 
departure,  every  afternoon  at  imminent  risk  I  would 
take  horse  to  Sceaux,  and  pursuing  a  by-way  through 
the  forests  and  fields,  through  which  a  wood -cutter  first 
led  me,  ride  hard  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  her  who  now 


SERIGNY'S  DEPARTURE  203 

occupied  all  my  thoughts.  I  wonder  at  this  time  how 
I  then  held  so  firm  by  the  duty  of  returning  to  the  col- 
onies, when  the  very  thought  of  war  and  turmoil  was 
so  distasteful  to  me.  When  I  rode  to  Paris  and 
clothed  myself  once  more  in  my  own  proper  garments, 
their  friendly  folds  gave  me  a  new  courage  to  meet 
whatever  Fate  might  send. 

It  may  be  pertinent  to  chronicle  here,  what  history 
has  already  recorded,  the  result  of  placing  those  dis- 
patches in  the  King's  hands. 

The  Duke  of  Maine,  as  all  the  world  knows,  dis- 
avowed his  wife's  act  in  treating  with  Spain,  and  thus 
saved  his  own  dainty  carcass  from  sharing  her  captivity 
in  the  Bastille.  But  both  he  and  Madame  were  im- 
prisoned until  he  made  most  abject  submission  and  apol- 
ogy to  Orleans. 

Madame  de  Chartrain  was  sent  to  a  provincial  fortress, 
and  bore  her  incarceration  with  great  fortitude,  winning 
even  from  her  enemies  the  admiration  always  accorded 
to  firmness  and  virtue. 

Philip  of  Orleans  being  once  firmly  established  in  the 
Regency,  changed  his  usual  course,  and  pardoned  many 
of  those  who  had  conspired  against  him.  Their  prison 
doors  were  opened,  and  the  Duke  of  Maine,  becoming 
reconciled  to  his  haughty  lady,  forgave  her  and  gained 
great  credit  thereby  in  the  vulgar  mind.  They  spent 
their  lives  quietly  at  Sceaux  during  the  Regency,  and 
naught  else  of  them  concerns  this  history. 

Phil'p  of  Orleans  possessed  some  of  the  virtues  of  a 
great  man,  and  many  of  a  good  man.  but  these  he  kept 


2O4  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

ever  locked  within  his  own  bosom.  His  mother,  the 
rigid  and  austere  Madame,  said  once  of  him : 

"Though  good  fairies  have  gifted  my  son  at  his  birth 
with  numerous  noble  qualities,  one  envious  member  of 
the  sisterhood  spitefully  decreed  that  he  should  never 
know  how  to  use  any  of  these  gifts."  Such  was  the 
character  of  the  Regent. 

Of  Jerome  and  Madame  de  Chartrain  I  would  fain  tell 
more,  but  during  the  troubled  times  in  America  I 
completely  lost  sight  of  them,  and  my  inquiries  devel- 
oped nothing  of  sufficient  verity  to  give  credence  to  here. 

All  Frenchmen  know  of  Jerome's  gallant  death  at 
Malplaquet.  It  is  a  fireside  legend  now,  and  young 
French  lads  turn  their  moistened  eyes  away  at  the 
hearing.  Marshal  Villars  being  sorely  hurt  and  in  peril 
of  capture,  there  fought  beside  his  litter  an  unknown 
gentleman  who,  without  name  or  rank,  yet  bore  himself 
so  commandingly,  the  discouraged  guard  rallied  again 
and  gave  him  willing  obedience.  Arrived  at  a  narrow 
bridge  he  urged  the  litter-bearers  safely  across,  and 
fighting  at  the  rear  to  be  himself  the  last  to  reach  a  place 
of  safety,  he  was  struck  and  fell.  Prince  Eugene,  the 
courteous  enemy,  who  had  himself  witnessed  the  inci- 
dent, sent  a  guard  of  honor  to  the  Marshal  at  Valen- 
ciennes the  next  day  with  the  body,  deeming  it  that  of 
a  man  of  consequence.  His  letter  congratulated  the 
defeated  Villars  upon  having  such  chivalric  friends. 

It  was  poor  Jerome,  and  no  one  knew  him  then.  He 
rests  now  with  his  fathers. 

I  loved  the  lad  truly.  As  knightly  a  gentleman  as 
ever  died  for  his  King,  or  lied  for  his  lady. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE  CASTLE  OF  CARTILLON 

TWO  days,  four,  passed.  Serigny  had  departed  for 
Dieppe  to  arm  and  equip  le  Dauphin,  yet  still 
there  was  no  official  declaration  of  war.  I  was  waiting, 
as  he  had  ordered,  for  the  formal  declaration,  on  the 
publication  of  which  I  was  to  join  him  on  board  at  once 
and  we  would  set  sail  instantly  for  Biloxi. 

Another  anxious  day,  during  which  I  vacillated  be- 
tween an  ignoble  love  and  a  noble  duty.  Then,  late  in 
the  evening,  the  whole  court  was  fanned  into  a  blaze  des- 
tined to  spread  throughout  Europe  and  America,  by  the 
announcement  that  the  war  had  been  formally  decided 
upon. 

Men  may  long  look  forward  to  a  crushing  calamity, 
and  when  it  comes  be  surprised  and  unprepared.  So, 
though  I  well  knew  I  must  leave  France  with  all  speed, 
and  possibly  never  see  her  shores  again,  I  put  it  from 
me  as  persistently  as  men  do  the  certainty  of  death. 
Every  day  did  I  ride  to  Sceaux,  by  the  old  wall,  and 
catch  a  glimpse  of  her  I  loved.  When  war  was  at  last 
declared  there  was  no  time  for  parleying  with  duty.  My 
path  lay  straight  and  clear  before  me ;  yet  for  once  a  sol- 
dier's duty  and  a  soldier's  adventure  gave  me  no  pleas- 
ure. All  my  thoughts  were  otherwhere. 
(205) 


206  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

Hot-foot  to  Sceaux  again  I  rode  on  my  way  to  Dieppe, 
and  from  the  same  embrasure  at  the  wall  where  my 
horses  had  trampled  down  the  foliage  many  times,  I 
watched  her  coming.  It  was  not  for  long.  More  hur- 
riedly than  was  her  custom  she  glided,  a  glorified  young 
creature,  in  and  out  amongst  the  shrubbery,  until  the 
envious  chapel  door  hid  her  from  my  sight.  No  living 
thing  was  in  view.  The  sound  of  no  discordant  voice 
broke  the  holy  peace  of  God.  Temptation  came  never 
to  our  first  erring  mother  in  more  insidious  guise  than 
this. 

Where  was  the  harm,  I  reasoned,  it  was  but  for  an 
instant's  speech  with  her,  ere  the  bounding  seas  would 
roll  between  us.  So  with  nervous  haste  I  tumbled  from 
my  horse  and  tethered  him  stoutly  to  a  tree.  Over  the 
wall  and  to  the  chapel  door  took  another  instant,  and 
there,  inside,  at  the  rail,  she  knelt.  I  paused,  as  a 
sinner  might,  hesitating  to  mar  with  heart  profane  the  de- 
votions of  a  saint.  My  foot  struck  a  cracking  board  in 
the  entry,  and  drew  her  glance  toward  me.  She  sprang 
up  as  I  entered,  with  a  swift  cry  of  surprise,  and,  as  I 
fancied,  some  whit  of  gladness  in  the  tone. 

"You,  Monsieur?  You  here?  I  thought  you  away 
from  Sceaux." 

"Yes,  Madame,  true;  but  I  returned  to  speak  with 
you  before  I  leave  France  forever.  I  came  here  to— to 
— "  I  could  not  tell  her  why;  my  heart,  so  full,  clogged 
my  utterance.  But  women  ever  understand. 

As  I  cast  about  me  for  a  word,  we  had  drawn  closer, 
and  taking  the  hand  which  half-hid  in  the  folds  of  her 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  2O/ 

dress,  gleamed  more  white  and  pure,  I  would  have  raised 
it  to  my  lips.  Even  at  such  a  time  I  noted  the  device 
upon  a  ring  she  wore,  a  device  grown  so  familiar:  A 
wolf's  head,  sable. 

"An  old  thing  of  my  mother's,"  she  explained, 
"Charles  has  one,  and  I." 

I  eagerly  seized  upon  a  subject  which  might  so  nat- 
urally prolong  our  interview. 

"Aye,  I  know  the  device  well;  are  you  of  the  d'Ar- 
tins?" 

"Yes,  my  mother  was;  there  are  now  none  of  the 
race.  The  last  is  a  wanderer;  I  know  not  if  he  lives." 

"I  know,  perchance,  of  such  a  man,  Madame;  would 
you  tell  me  more  of  him,  of  yourself?" 

"I  never  saw  him,  my  mother's  father.  Her  mar- 
riage displeased  him  greatly.  When  her  first  child  was 
born,  a  girl,  she  sent  it  to  him  for  his  blessing.  He 
denied  it,  saying  he  wanted  no  more  of  women.  The 
child  died  in  infancy.  Of  my  sister's  birth  and  mine  he 
was  never  told.  Then  he  went  away,  where,  none 
know." 

It  thrilled  me  with  a  new  hope.  Who  could  guess 
but  my  relations  with  Colonel  d'Ortez  might  throw  me 
again  in  her  way.  I  took  her  hand  again,  making  pre- 
tence to  examine  the  ring  more  curiously.  She  made 
slight  demur,  and  I  pressed  my  first  fervent  kiss  upon 
the  hand  of  woman.  Man's  fortitude  could  stand  no 
more.  Tossing  honor,  discretion,  duty  to  the  winds,  I 
folded  her  close,  closer  yet,  and  kissed  her  brow,  her  hair, 


2O8  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

her  eyes — her  lips,  she  struggling  like  a  frightened  nest- 
ling all  the  while.  It  was  done. 

Ashamed  but  impenitent — it  was  too  new,  too  sweet 
to  wish  undone — I  loosed  her  gently,  and  kissed  her 
hand  but  once  again,  then  left  her  standing  where  the 
light  from  the  mullioned  window  in  halos  wreathed  my 
saint.  It  was  thus  I  ever  afterward  remembered  her. 

She  made  no  other  sign ;  I  withdrew  swiftly  as  I 
came.  From  across  the  wall,  unobserved,  I  watched 
her  leave  the  place,  downcast  of  eye  and  slow  of  step. 
In  rebellious  and  uncertain  mood  I  rode  away. 

Though  the  relish  in  my  task  was  done,  I  made  all 
haste  toward  Dieppe.  Scarcely  stopping  for  food, 
changing  horses  as  often  as  I  could,  I  pushed  on  with- 
out adventure  until  I  reached  the  Chateau  Cartillon,  then 
a  formless  ruin. 

Here  my  saddle  girth  broke  and  I  was  nearly  thrown 
to  the  ground.  I  scrambled  off,  walked  to  the  little  inn 
where  I  inquired  how  far  I  had  yet  to  go. 

"Three  leagues  yet  to  Dieppe,"  the  host  replied, 
"but  Monsieur  can  not  go  on  to-night;  he  must  wait 
the  morrow;  he  can  go  with  comfort  in  the  morning." 

I  sent  my  groom  for  a  new  girth  and  found  it  would 
take  quite  an  hour  to  procure  one  from  the  village. 

"Probably  Monsieur  would  visit  the  castle  upon  the 
hill  there,"  persisted  the  landlord,  pointing  across  the 
way,  "it  is  worth  his  while.  It  is  said  to  have  been  de- 
stroyed by  the  Great  Henry  in  his  wars  with  the  Duke 
of  Mayenne.  True  it  is  that  sounds  of  battle  and 


THE   CASTLE   OF  CARTILLON  2Op 

screams  are  yet  heard  there  on  stormy  nights.     Proba- 
bly Monsieur  would  rest  here  several  days . " 

I  essayed  to  silence  the  fellow,  for  I  was  in  no  mood 
to  listen  to  his  chatter.  Yet  there  was  something  in  his 
eulogy  of  the  locality,  which  he  gave  as  a  hawker  cry- 
ing his  wares,  that  fixed  my  unwilling  attention. 

"And,  Monsieur,  perchance  you  may  see  old  mad 
Michel.  What!  you  know  naught  of  him?  Country 
folk  do  say  his  grandam  witnessed  the  murder  of  the 
Count,  and  that  it  sent  her  feeble  mind  a-wandering. 
Her  child  through  all  her  life  did  fancy  herself  the 
Count,  and  made  strange  speeches  to  the  people's  fear. 
And  now  this  grandson  of  hers  has  grown  old  in  frenzy 
like  his  mother  and  grandam,  possessed  of  an  evil  spirit 
which  speaks  through  him  betimes — it  is  a  curse  of  the 
blood,  Monsieur,  a  grievous  curse  of  the  blood." 

It  aroused  something  of  a  curiosity  within  me,  yet  I 
was  loath  to  pause  upon  my  journey.  Forced,  though, 
to  wait  an  hour,  I  thought  to  walk  over  to  the  Chateau 
a  couple  of  hundred  yards  distant.  Taking  a  lad  who 
lounged  about  the  inn,  to  show  me  the  way,  I  sauntered 
up  the  path,  pausing  a  while  at  a  long-disused  spring, 
and  idly  plucked  an  apple  from  a  branch  which  over- 
hung it.  A  little  further  up,  and  mounting  the  steep 
acclivity,  I  stood  within  the  ancient  fortress. 

This  castle,  since  rebuilded,  you,  my  children,  are  of 

course  familiar  with,  for  you  were  all  born  here.     At 

that  date  the  great  central   tower   alone  stood    erect 

amid  the  universal  destruction,     A  black  wolf's  head 

14— BLACK 


210  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

reared  itself  high  above  the  portcullis.  The  moat  was 
filled  with  drift  of  crumbling  years,  and  the  walls,  fallen 
in  many  places,  ran  hither  and  thither  in  aimless  curves 
and  angles,  much  as  they  do  to-day. 

Up  to  this  hour  my  chronicle  has  been  only  of  such 
adventures  as  might  befall  a  soldier  upon  any  enterprise, 
but  now  a  strange  thing  happened.  Until  that  moment 
I  had  never  seen  the  Chateau  Cartillon,  still  there  was 
not  a  corner  or  a  passage  which  did  not  seem  well  known 
to  me.  My  feet  fell  into  paths  they  seemed  no  strangers 
to.  I  seemed  to  know  intuitively  what  each  building 
was  for,  and  even  imagined  most  vividly  scenes  which 
had  transpired  there.  The  whole  place  had  the  most 
intense  personal  interest  for  me,  why  I  knew  not. 

I  am  not  superstitious,  but  the  ruin  oppressed  me, 
made  me  restless  and  uneasy;  yet  I  was  loath  to  leave. 
The  loneliness  of  it  all  filled  me  with  vague  apprehen- 
sions as  I  picked  my  way  across  the  grass  encumbered 
court-yard  toward  the  road  again.  A  thousand  haunt- 
ing fancies  of  half  familiar  things  thronged  from  out  each 
dismantled  doorway.  Faces  I  all  but  recognized  peered 
at  me  through  the  broken  casements ;  voices  I  almost 
knew  called  to  me  from  many  a  silent  corner.  Yet  all 
was  still,  all  was  solitude.  Heartily  shamed  at  my 
quickening  step  I  hurried  on  and  having  consumed  a 
quarter  of  my  hour  sat  down  by  the  spring  mentioned 
before,  just  beyond  the  castle's  utmost  boundary. 

The  haze  of  late  afternoon  had  deepened  into  night 
upon  the  peaceful  meadows  and  lazy  sweep  of  river, 
A  distant  peasant's  song  came  faintly  from  the  fields. 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  2 II 

While  sitting  there  beside  the  spring,  gazing  listlessly 
into  its  placid  depths,  an  uncanny  figure  made  its  way 
through  a  breach  in  the  bastion,  and  stood  before  me. 
At  first  I  confess  I  was  startled,  the  wild  uncouth  thing, 
bent  and  decrepit,  with  hair  of  long  and  tangled  gray, 
fiery  sunken  eyes,  seemed  born  of  another  world  than 
this.  He  bent  his  gaze  with  searching  scrutiny  full 
upon  me. 

The  lad  whispered:  "It's  old  mad  Michel;  he 
lives  up  there,"  pointing  to  a  tumbled  down  tower, 
"and  believes  himself  the  Count — the  Count,  and  him 
long  dead  lying  yonder  in  the  well." 

The  boy  shuddered  and  crossed  himself. 

The  old  man  gazed  steadily  at  me  for  some  moments 
then  bowing  low,  he  cried : 

"Hail!  Son  of  d'Artin!  Hast  come  to  view  thine 
own  again?  Let  us  into  the  walls." 

"Let  us  go,  Monsieur,  quick,"  urged  the  lad,  tug- 
ging at  my  coat,  "it  is  late." 

The  dusk  in  fact  was  coming  on  apace  and  climbing 
shadows  crept  round  the  grotesque  masonry.  Unheed- 
ing the  lad's  fear,  I  was  strongly  impelled  to  talk  with 
the  daft  creature.  It  was  an  impulse  born  not  wholly  of 
idle  curiosity.  I  felt  strangely  moved. 

"What  do  you  want  of  me,  old  man?"  I  asked. 

"I  am  Henri  d'Artin,  by  murder's  hand  laid  low;  I 
would  tell  you  much." 

"Let  us  go,  Monsieur,  let  us  go.  He  speaks  of  un- 
holy things,"  the  boy  pleaded  fearfully.  Meeting  no 


212  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

response  he  turned  and  fled  down  the  slope,  away  in  the 
twilight  beneath  the  trees. 

"Dost  hear  the  clanking  arms,  the  rolling  drums  of 
war?  List  unto  the  shouts,  the  cries  within.  Dost  not 
know  it  is  the  day  after  the  feast  of  the  most  Blessed 
Saint  Bartholomew?" 

The  man's  wild  earnestness  fixed  a  spell  upon  me,  and 
to  the  end  of  his  narrative  I  listened  until  the  tale  was 
done.  I  can  not  hope  to  set  down  here  as  I  heard  it 
what  the  madman  said,  nor  to  have  my  lines  breathe 
forth  the  vigor  of  his  speech.  Carried  beyond  mortal 
energy  by  his  frenzy,  overmastered  by  some  mysterious 
Power  of  which  we  men  know  naught,  he  threw  into  his 
strange,  weird  story  a  life  and  action  which  entered  my 
very  soul.  And  as  he  spoke  he  seemed  to  live  through 
the  scenes  that  he  so  vividly  described.  It  was  as  though 
some  grim  drama  were  being  enacted  for  my  enlighten- 
ment. So  well  as  I  can  tell  it,  the  tale  ran  thus : 

On  yestermorn  my  wife,  my  daughter  and  little  boy, 
committed  to  the  charge  of  old  Gaston,  had  driven  into 
Rouen  to  spend  the  day.  I  rode  along  after  them  to 
learn  the  news  from  Paris.  We  of  the  Reformed  Faith 
hoped  for  great  things  from  the  meeting  of  our  leaders 
with  the  Duke  of  Guise  and  the  Queen  Mother,  for 
King  Charles  seemed  kindly  disposed  toward  us.  But, 
God  of  Mercy !  what  scenes  there  were  in  Rouen ;  every- 
where was  slaughter,  everywhere  was  murder.  I  found 
my  carriage  overturned  in  the  streets,  covering  the  dead 
and  mutilated  bodies  of  wif  and  daughter;  the  babe, 


1  The  old  man  gazed  steadily  at  me  for  some  moments."    p.  21 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  213 

unhurt  and  unnoticed  in  the  carnage,  had  escaped. 
Throughout  the  city  were  prowling  bands  wearing  the 
white  cross  in  their  caps,  the  white  sash  on  their  arms, 
which  designated  the  followers  of  Guise,  and  with  cries 
of  "Death  to  the  Huguenots"  and  "No  quarter  to  the 
enemies  of  Holy  Church,"  they  slew  without  mercy. 
I  had  now  no  idea  but  to  put  my  boy  in  a  place  of 
safety,  and  with  him  before  me  rode  straight  for  the 
nearest  gate.  I  passed  unmolested  through  the  streets, 
and  by  avoiding  the  public  places,  drawing  out  of  the 
way  of  murdering  bands,  thought  to  evade  them  and 
reach  the  river  gate  south  of  town.  My  whole  soul  re- 
volted at  leaving  the  bodies  of  wife  and  daughter  in 
Rouen,  but  the  living  child  must  be  considered  before 
the  dead.  At  the  turn  from  out  the  obscure  Rue  St. 
Croix  into  the  open  square  at  Vieux  Marche  I  heard  a 
shout,  "Here  he  is,  this  way,"  and  saw  a  man  at  arms 
stationed  in  the  square  beckoning  to  his  comrades  who 
came  clattering  down  the  Rue  de  Crosne.  This  blocked 
the  path  along  which  I  intended  to  leave  the  town. 

Riding  at  their  head  I  recognized  my  old  time  enemy, 
my  half  brother,  Pedro  Ortez,  a  man  of  whose  prowess 
and  cruelty  terrible  stories  were  told. 

Right  willingly  would  I  have  paused  to  give  him 
fight,  but  for  the  babe.  The  fellow  who  had  raised  the 
cry  now  threw  himself  full  in  my  way  with  the  evident 
purpose  of  engaging  me  until  the  others  came  up.  I 
made  straight  at  him,  but  he  stood  his  ground  bravely, 
and  encumbered  as  I  was  with  the  child,  he  succeeded 
in  wounding  me  twice  before  I  could  pierce  him  through 


214  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

the  throat  and  drop  him  from  his  horse.  Verily,  his 
courage  was  worthy  a  better  quarrel. 

This,  in  full  sight  of  the  oncoming  band,  fixed  their 
attention,  and,  raising  the  shout  of  "Death  to  d'Artin," 
they  spurred  their  horses  to  a  gallop.  I  had  barely 
disappeared  down  the  deserted  Rue  Corneille  when  they 
debouched  into  the  square,  spreading  out  and  circling 
round  as  hounds  hot  upon  a  scent.  Here  they  were  at 
fault,  not  knowing  whither  I  had  turned  among  so  many 
narrow  and  irregular  streets.  Before  they  found  me 
again  I  was  well  upon  the  high  road  to  Cartillon.  The 
superior  speed  of  my  horse  gave  me  easily  the  lead. 

I  soon  overtook  Gaston,  drawn  aside  in  the  bushes, 
wounded  and  bleeding,  waiting  for  me.  At  first  I  up- 
braided him  fiercely,  but  a  frightful  gash  across  his 
head,  dabbling  his  gray  hairs  in  blood,  stopped  my 
wrath.  On  the  ride  home  he  told  me  of  the  day's  dis- 
aster. Pedro  Ortez  and  his  cut-throats  had  set  upon 
them  in  the  name  of  the  church.  He  was  soon  cut  down 
and  left  upon  the  street,  recovering  consciousness  only 
to  find  his  murdered  mistress  lying  dead  beside  him. 
He  had  then  crawled  away  to  warn  me,  for  the  whole 
object  of  Ortez  seemed  to  be  to  take  my  life. 

Gaston's  distress  was  pitiful;  as  his  mute  eyes  now 
and  again  sought  mine,  I  could  not  find  it  in  my  heart 
to  censure  him.  Having  distanced  my  poorly  mounted 
pursuers  I  stopped  to  water  my  horse  at  the  spring 
before  riding  the  few  hundred  yards  to  the  gates  of  Car- 
tillon. While  yet  waiting  by  the  spring  I  was  horrified 
to  see  men  struggling  on  top  of  the  great  tower.  Their 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  21 5 

fight  was  brief  and  decisive.  Two  of  them,  one  being 
Maurice  my  most  trusted  man  at  arms,  were  thrown 
violently  to  the  courtyard  below.  Of  the  others  some 
were  killed,  some  overpowered  and  carried  below  again. 

All  of  this  took  only  an  instant,  for  it  appeared  but 
the  end  of  a  desperate  encounter  which  had  been  raging 
elsewhere.  The  time,  however,  was  long  enough  for  me 
to  see  that  those  of  the  larger  party  wore  the  white  sash 
and  cross  which  distinguished  my  assailants  in  Rouen. 

"God  in  heaven,  what  murder's  work  have  we  at  Car- 
tillon?"  I  cried  aloud  in  my  misery.  Then  one  who 
could  answer  came  running  toward  me  from  the  castle, 
gashed,  with  snapped  sword  in  hand. 

"Oh,  master,  master,  the  Catholics,  the  Catholics," 
was  all  he  could  speak  out  before  he  fell  a  senseless  mass 
at  my  horse's  feet. 

Cartillon  was  not  now  a  refuge. 

Immediately  the  distant  sound  of  hoof  beats  came 
loud  and  louder  yet,  from  the  direction  of  Rouen. 
Ortez  was  coming. 

"Quick,  Gaston,    we  must  fly.' 

My  overtaxed  horse  failed  me  now.  Pulling  the  rein 
he  only  sank  slowly  to  his  knees,  and  after  a  few  spas- 
modic twitches,  stiffened  out  forever  upon  the  rocky 
road.  I  stood  erect  a  moment,  child  in  arms,  irreso- 
lute. There  was  short  shrift  to  think.  My  blood  re- 
belled at  flight. 

"Here,  Gaston,  take  the  boy;  hide  in  the  wood. 
Carry  him  to  the  Abbot  of  Vaux,  and  conjure  the  good 
priest,  by  our  fathers'  love  and  ours,  to  save  my  baby." 


2l6  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

Gaston  had  hardly  passed  from  sight  among  the  trees 
before  a  dozen  well-armed  horsemen,  bearing  the  same 
white  cross  in  their  caps,  spurred  round  a  curve  in  the 
forest  road,  coming  suddenly  upon  me  beside  my  fallen 
steed.  Sword  in  hand,  I  fronted  them,  determined, 
come  what  would,  to  fly  no  further.  The  evil  face  of 
Ortez  shone  with  gratification  at  so  unexpectedly  find- 
ing me  alone. 

"Now,  yield  thee,  sirrah,"  he  cried,  as  his  men  sur- 
rounded me.  A  quick  sword  thrust  through  the  body 
of  his  horse,  brought  him  to  the  ground. 

"Not  yet,  thou  slayer  of  women;  here,  upon  equal 
footing,  thy  life  shall  pay  for  those  of  wife  and  child." 

I  verily  believed  the  Almighty  vengeance  was  in  my 
blade,  and  doubt  not  I  should  have  slain  him  despite 
his  troopers  but  for  a  crushing  pike  blow  over  the  head, 
so  swiftly  did  it  all  come  about. 

My  brain  reeled;  the  sword  dropped  clanging  from 
my  nerveless  hand.  When  I  recovered,  I  found  myself 
bound  upon  a  horse  behind  one  of  the  men. 

"On  with  him,  men,  to  Cartillon;  there  we  rest  this 
night  in  the  King's  name." 

In  this  wise  we  rode  along ;  Ortez  openly  exultant,  I 
silent  and  scornful. 

"Aha,  my  fine  brother,"  he  spoke  low  at  my  saddle, 
"thy  father's  son  has  thee  in  his  power  now.  And 
shall  I  not  revenge  upon  thee  the  wrong  our  father  did 
my  mother  for  thine?  Didst  know  the  story?" 

I  made  no  reply,  but  he  went  on  unmindful. 

"To  my  mother  he  gave  his  love  but  dared  not  give 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  2 1/ 

his  name ;  to  thy  mother  he  gave  his  name  but  could 
never  give  his  love.  So  thou  art  the  proud  Lord  of 
Cartillon,  and  I  the  outcast  soldier  of  fortune,  the 
nameless  adventurer,  slayer  of  women — what  thou  wilt. 
But  things  are  changed  now.  Before  many  hours  I 
will  be  the  Count  d'Artin,  and  thou  a  dishonored 
corpse,  sweet  brother." 

"Thou!      Thou  my  brother?" 

I  turned  upon  him  a  look  of  incredulous  contempt, 
yet,  for  I  had  heard  some  such  tale  of  my  father's 
youth,  I  asked : 

"Thy  mother  was — ?" 

"Nanon  Esculas,  whom  thy  father  abducted  in  Spain 
to  desert  in  France." 

"My  heart  sank;  I  had  seen  the  woman,  and  knew 
her  son  for  one  of  the  most  courageous  and  unprincipled 
adventurers  who  hung  about  the  Court  and  held  their 
swords  for  hire.  When  the  noisy  troop  rode  up  to  the 
gates  of  Cartillon  their  leader  paused,  a  head  appeared 
upon  the  battlements. 

"Guise,"  cried  Ortez,  giving  the  watchword  of  that 
day  of  slaughter.  The  drawbridge  lowered,  and  open 
swung  the  gates. 

"Welcome  to  Cartillon,  d'Artin,"  Ortez  bowed. 
"Here  at  last  we  find  rest  and  refreshment.  Let  a  feast 
be  spread  in  the  great  hall,  ransack  the  place  for  good 
cheer.  We've  done  brave  work  this  glorious  day,  my 
lads,  and  a  merry  ending  we'll  have  before  the  night  is 
gone." 

Everywhere  in  the  courtyard  were  evidences  of  bloody 


2l8  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

conflict.  Singly,  in  groups  and  in  hideous  crimson- 
splashed  piles  lay  Catholics  and  Huguenots  together, 
peaceful  enough  in  death. 

"By  my  faith,  and  a  gallant  set  of  gentlemen  we 
have  here,"  laughed  Ortez.  "What  think  you,  brother 
mine?" 

And  even  as  he  spoke  he  leaned  from  his  saddle  to 
strike  down  a  half  dying  wretch  who  lifted  his  head 
from  among  the  slain. 

"Perez,"  he  called  to  his  sergeant  riding  behind  him, 
"dispose  of  these  bodies.  Throw  the  heretic  dogs  into 
the  old  well  yonder.  Give  our  martyred  friends  Christian 
burial." 

He  sat  his  horse  idly  toying  with  his  dagger,  and 
forced  me  to  watch  my  servants,  the  wounded  and  the 
dead,  being  cast  into  the  yawning  darkness  of  the  well. 

"God's  blood!  here  is  our  sweet  young  Philip. 
What,  not  yet  dead !  Why,  it  matters  not,  cast  him  in." 
This  in  answer  to  a  questioning  look  from  the  more 
merciful  Perez. 

The  men  at  arms  had  extricated  from  a  heap  of  slain 
the  limp  body  of  my  youngest  brother,  a  boy  of  twenty, 
his  pallid  face  gaping  open  from  a  cut  across  the  cheek. 
He  lifted  his  eyes  languidly  to  mine. 

"Oh  brother,  you  are  come.  Some  water,  water," 
he  murmured. 

"Throw  him  in,  men,"  Ortez  interrupted. 

Perez  yet  hesitated. 

"Shall  we  not  first  dispatch  him,  sire?" 

"No,    I  would  not  harm  my  gentle  brother;   throw 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CARTILLON  219 

him  in.  Be  not  slow  about  it  either,  thou  chicken- 
hearted  bullies;  pitch  him  in." 

The  men  started  to  obey  this  savage  order. 

"Hound  of  hell!"  I  screamed,  tortured  beyond  en- 
durance, and  struggling  at  my  bonds. 

Ortez  slapped  me  in  the  face  with  his  gauntlet,  then 
laying  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder  said  with  assumed 
gentleness : 

"Calm  yourself,  my  dear  brother;  think  of  your  un- 
bandaged  wounds;  they  may  bleed  afresh." 

Philip  was  conscious  as  the  men  bore  him  to  the  edge 
of  the  well,  but  powerless  to  resist  four  stout  fellows 
who  cast  him  headlong  amongst  the  dead  and  dying  to 
mingle  his  groans  and  blood  with  theirs.  Oh,  that  God 
should  permit  to  men  such  deeds,  and  grant  that  men 
should  witness  them!  When  the  last  body  had  been 
disposed  of,  Ortez  led  the  way  to  the  banquet  hall,  in- 
viting all  his  rabble  to  join  the  feast.  The  banquet  hall, 
used  as  it  was  to  scenes  of  turbulence,  never  perhaps 
had  looked  upon  such  a  throng  as  that.  I  occupied 
the  head  of  my  own  table,  strapped  helpless  in  my  seat. 
On  either  side  were  vacant  chairs.  Ortez  sat  at  the 
foot.  Between,  the  soldiery  ranged  themselves  as  they 
pleased.  One  of  the  troopers  coming  in  late  would 
have  taken  his  place  beside  me,  but  his  Captain  stopped 
him : 

"Not  there,  Gardier;  we  have  other  and  fairer  guests 
for  whom  those  seats  are  kept." 

Almost  as  he  spoke  the  chairs  on  either  side  of  me 


220  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

were  slipped  away,  and  after  awhile  as  silently  returned 
to  their  places. 

Sacrament  of  passion !  In  one  of  them  was  bound 
the  mutilated  corpse  of  my  queenly  wife,  her  fingers 
hacked  off  and  her  ears  torn  out  for  the  gems  which 
had  decked  them.  Upon  my  left  sat  little  Celia.  But 
for  one  lurid  stripe  of  crimson  across  her  girlish  breast 
she  might  well  have  been  asleep,  so  lightly  death  had 
touched  her.  Behind  them  I  saw  a  tall,  gaunt  woman, 
wearing  a  man's  helm  and  carrying  a  pike.  She  di- 
rected the  men.  This  was  a  woman's  hellish  work. 

Ortez  rose  with  studied  politeness : 

"Your  wife  and  child,  d'Artin;  our  charming  family 
reunion  would  be  incomplete  without  them."  And  the 
woman  laughed  aloud. 

My  brain  burned ;  something  seemed  to  strain  and 
give  way.  I  lost  all  sense  of  pain,  all  capacity  to  suffer. 
How  long  this  lasted  I  know  not.  When  the  revelry 
was  at  its  height,  when  the  wine  had  dulled  every 
human  instinct  of  these  rough  "Soldiers  of  the  Church, ' ' 
Ortez  raised  his  voice  above  the  tumult ;  he  knew  his 
men  were  in  the  humor  for  a  diversion  he  was  about  to 
propose. 

"Now  comrades,"  he  said,  "for  the  crowning  joy  of 
this  most  blessed  day,  now  for  our  last  sacred  duty  to 
Mother  Church." 

He  came  round  the  table  and  taking  a  cord  from  the 
hands  of  one  of  his  men  he  threw  the  noose  over  my 
head.  With  feet  bound  together,  hands  free,  I  stood 
amongst  them,  this  throng  of  butchers,  each  with  the 


THE   CASTLE   OF  CARTILLON  221 

white  Cross  of  Christ  in  his  cap,  the  white  scarf  of  Guise 
upon  his  arm,  drunk  and  eager  for  blood. 

"Henri  Francois  Placide  d'Artin,  what  hast  thou  to 
say  why  we  shall  not  declare  thy  blood  attainted,  thy 
name  dishonored,  thy  estate  forfeited,  why  we  shall  not 
hang  thee  for  a  Huguenot  dog,  traitor  to  King  and 
church?  Speak." 

All  the  defiance  of  my  race  burned  fearless  in  my  eyes ; 
I  felt  my  face  flush  an  instant  at  the  shame  of  such  a 
death,  but  replied  as  steadily  as  might  be: 

"Not  a  word  to  you,  thou  infamous  one,  thou  base- 
born  coward,  murderer  of  the  helpless;  not  to  you!" 

The  cool,  polite  manner  of  Ortez  fell  from  him  like  a 
mask.  He  seized  the  cord  with  his  own  hand,  jerking 
me  prone  upon  the  floor  and  commenced  to  drag  me 
from  the  hall.  A  dozen  willing  hands  lent  aid.  I 
clutched  instinctively  at  everything  which  came  in  my 
way,  being  torn  from  each  hold  by  the  ruthless  villains 
at  the  rope. 

Desperate,  I  grasped  the  leg  of  a  trooper,  but  a  sav- 
age kick  in  the  face  wrenched  him  free,  and  down  the 
stair  they  started  for  the  open  court.  At  the  end  of  the 
cord  came  tumbling,  rolling,  bumping  down  the  stone 
steps  this  almost  senseless  heap  which  was  yet  a  man. 

Arrived  beside  the  well,  whose  great  overhanging 
sweep  offered  a  convenient  scaffold,  Ortez  paused  to 
look  at  his  victim.  My  breath  came  slow,  I  could 
hardly  hear  their  words. 

"Think  you  his  senses  will  return?" 


222  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Possibly,  sire,"  replied  the  man  to  whom  this  was 
addressed. 

"Then  we  will  wait;  my  sweet  brother  would  weep  to 
miss  so  brave  a  spectacle  as  his  own  hanging." 

He  sat  there  upon  the  edge  of  the  well,  whence  came 
the  groans  of  the  dying,  the  hot,  fresh  odors  of  the 
dead,  and  waited,  fiendish  in  the  patient  ferocity  of  his 
more  than  mortal  hate. 

After  a  little  I  opened  my  eyes  and  stared  about  me, 
scarcely  comprehending  where  I  was  or  what  had  hap- 
pened. Ortez  called  upon  his  men  to  raise  me.  Being 
placed  erect  the  cord  was  drawn  just  taut  enough  to  sus- 
tain me  standing.  Now  the  ghastly  woman  I  had  seen 
in  the  ha]l  pushed  her  way  through  the  crowd. 

"Her  son,"  she  hissed,  and  savagely  struck  me  in 
the  mouth  until  blood  followed  the  blow.  The  cord  in- 
stantly tightened  and  I  felt  myself  swing  across  the  well. 
First  only  a  dizziness  and  a  parched  mouth.  Then  the 
tumultuous  blood  surged  to  my  throat,  beating,  strug- 
gling, gurgling  like  some  pent-up  mountain  stream 
against  the  rocks.  I  threw  both  hands  up  to  grasp  the 
rope — heard  a  laugh,  not  a  human  laugh,  yet  it  sounded 
so  far,  so  very  far  away,  away  back  upon  the  earth. 

A  gigantic  merciful  hand  seemed  to  take  my  head 
within  its  gripe  and  press  out  all  the  pain. 

Fiery  circles  swam  before  my  eyes ;  great  crimson 
blotches  floated  about  in  restless  clouds  of  flame ;  then 
dreams,  dreams,  long  delicious  dreams.  And  out  of 
endless  years  of  rhythmic  music,  the  laughter  of  low- 


THE   CASTLE   OF   CART1LLON  223 

voiced  women,  and  many  colored  lights,  came  at  length 
oblivion. 

Thus  the  tale  ended.  It  was  the  same  I  had  heard  in 
far  away  Louisiana,  told  again  with  all  the  grim  earnest- 
ness of  desperate  truth. 

I  stood  now  in  the  great  courtyard  again,  beside  the 
ancient  well,  drinking  eagerly  every  inspired  syllable. 
When  the  speaker  had  done,  he  shrank  back  into  the 
darkness,  and  was  gone. 

It  was  as  though  I  witnessed  in  my  own  person  the 
wretched  death  of  Henri  d'Artin,  and  stood  within  his 
castle's  court  when  the  ruthless  deed  was  done.  Verily 
man  knoweth  not  the  rebellious  vagaries  of  an  unhinged 
brain ;  knoweth  not  what  be  but  unmeaning  phantasies, 
or  what  be  solemn  revelations  from  the  very  lips  of  God. 

In  the  deep  gloom  the  ruined  castle  loomed  darkly,  a 
ghastly  monument  of  evil  deeds.  I  looked  about  for 
the  madman  but  saw  him  not.  The  weirdness  of  the 
place,  the  horror  of  its  secret,  crept  into  my  blood.  I 
became  afraid.  Down  the  bleak  road  I  picked  my  way, 
glancing  fearsomely  over  my  shoulder.  I  fain  would  have 
fled  as  had  the  lad. 

I  found  my  horse  re-equipped.  Still  shuddering  I 
mounted,  scarce  daring  to  look  backwards  at  the  cursed 
pile.  Then,  with  the  madman's  story  surging  in  my 
brain,  I  dug  savage  spurs  into  my  steed  and  galloped 
desperately  onward  through  the  night. 


CHAPTER   XX 

FROM  THE  PATH  OF  DUTY 

IT  was  about  ten  of  the  clock  when  I  reached  Dieppe. 
Soon  thereafter  I  was  well  aboard  le  Dauphin, 
Serigny  himself  meeting  me  at  the  vessel's  side. 

"Hullo,  Placide,"  he  cried.  "All  goeth  well,  and 
the  passing  night  gives  promise  to  us  of  a  brighter 
day." 

Later,  in  his  own  cabin,  he  told  me  of  a  brief  meeting 
he  had  with  Louis. 

"For  the  time  we  are  safe.  The  King  is  restless 
about  the  safety  of  the  province,  and  he  trusts  Bienville 
as  a  soldier.  The  Spanish  intrigue  keeps  our  enemies 
so  busy  they  have  not  time  to  disturb  us.  The  King  has 
no  man  who  can  take  Bienville's  place.  Well,  it's  all 
happily  over,  and  I  am  as  delighted  as  a  child  to  be  at 
sea  again.  We  would  sail  at  once,  now  that  you  are 
come,  were  it  not  for  de  la  Mora;  he,  with  his  wife  and 
another  lady,  are  to  bear  us  company.  The  Chevalier 
is  a  thorough  soldier,  and  I  welcome  him,  but  like  not 
the  presence  of  the  ladies  We  may  have  rough  work 
betimes." 

I  knew  my  face  grew  pale,  and  thanked  the  half-light 
(224) 


FROM   THE   PATH   OF   DUTY  225 

for  concealment,  or  he  must  have  noted.  Who  that 
"other  lady"  was,  possessed  for  me  no  interest,  and  I 
never  asked. 

De  la  Mora.  This  was  terrible,  and  so  unforeseen. 
Full  well  I  knew  I  could  not  spend  five  long  weeks  in 
daily  contact  with  Agnes  and  give  no  betraying  sign.  I 
must  needs  have  time  to  think,  and  that  right  speedily. 

"When  do  they  come,  sire?" 

"Any  moment;  they  left — or  should  have  done  so- 
rtie same  time  as  yourself.  His  orders  were  the  same." 

Rapidly  as  a  man  could  think,  so  thought  I. 

"How  long  will  you  wait  for  them?" 

"Until  dawn,  no  longer.     Then  we  sail." 

A  glimmer  of  hope — de  la  Mora  might  be  delayed. 
Without  any  clearly  defined  purpose  I  went  on  and 
carefully  gave  Serigny  every  detail  of  information  which 
could  be  valuable  touching  the  expected  trouble  in  the 
colonies.  Of  this  my  hands  should,  in  any  event,  be 
clean.  I  even  handed  him  the  King's  new  commission 
directed  to  Bienville,  whereof  I  was  so  proud  to  be  the 
bearer.  Whilst  ridding  my  mind  of  these  matters,  I 
could  not  have  said  what  course  I  meditated.  A  boat 
grating  against  the  vessel's  side  set  me  all  a  tremble, 
but  it  was  only  a  letter  of  instructions.  Making  some 
poor  excuse  to  Serigny  for  the  moment,  I  entered  the 
yawl  as  it  left  the  ship  to  go  ashore.  A  well-known  voice 
hailed  us  ere  we  made  the  land. 

"Ahoy  there,  the  boat,"  and  through  the  shadows  I 
made  out  the  form  of  him  I  dreaded  most  to  see. 
15— BLACK  WOLF 


226  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"Boatman,  can  you  put  three  of  us  aboard  yonder 
vessel?" 

"Aye,  sir,  it  is  from  her  I  have  just  come." 
"Is  thy  craft  a  fit  one  to  carry  ladies?" 

This  dashed  down  the  hope  he  had  left  his  wife  be- 
hind. 

"Aye,  sir,  it  is  a  safe  craft,  but  not  a  fine  ladies' 
barge.  We  can  go  with  care  and  run  into  no  danger. 
The  wind  is  low." 

"  'Twill  serve." 

I  jumped  ashore  and  would  have  slipped  by  without 
speaking  had  he  not  recognized  me. 

"By  my  soul,  de  Mouret,  it  is  you;  and  we  are  to  be 
companions  on  the  voyage.  Bravo." 

He  approached  me  frankly,  with  outstretched  hand  and 
hearty  greeting.  I  would  fain  have  avoided  touching 
his  honest  palm,  but  there  was  no  way  for  it. 

"I  see  you  are  surprised.  Yes?  I  was  suddenly 
ordered  to  sail  in  le  Dauphin,  and  report  to  your  good 
Governor,  Bienville.  A  most  sturdy  soldier  from  all 
report.  Heaven  send  us  a  sharp  campaign,  I  am  weary 
of  these  puny  quarrels.  We  will  have  brave  days  in  the 
colonies." 

This  open-hearted  way  about  him  struck  a  new  terror 
to  my  heart ;  I  could  face  his  sword  but  not  his  confi- 
dence. His  cheeks  glowed  with  martial  enthusiasm  and 
I  almost  caught  again  the  hot  lust  of  battle. 

"And  Agnes,  with  her  little  sister,  is  at  the  inn. 
Yes,"  he  continued,  noting  me  step  back  a  pace  in  pro- 
test, "it  is  a  rude  life  enough  for  tender  women,  but 


FROM  THE   PATH   OF  DUTY  22/ 

they  come  of  stock  that  fears  no  danger,  and  it's  better 
there  than  at  the  Court  of  Louis." 

I  hardly  heard  the  man.  To  meet  his  wife  day  after 
day,  to  associate  on  terms  of  cordial  intimacy  with  this 
honorable  gentleman,  to  enjoy  his  confidence,  my  heart 
filled  the  while  with  guilt  too  strong  to  conquer — the 
thing  was  torture  not  to  be  endured. 

"Come  with  me  to  the  inn;  let  us  get  the  ladies  and 
their  luggage  aboard.  Agnes  will  be  glad  to  meet  you  ; 
she  says  she  has  great  curiosity  to  see  what  you  are 
like." 

I  excused  myself  most  lamely  upon  the  plea  of  some 
duty  to  be  performed. 

"Ah  well,  on  board  then;  she  will  have  abundant 
time,  aye,  abundant  time." 

From  a  dark  place  near  the  inn  door,  I  watched 
their  departure.  Poor  weakling  that  I  was,  I  could  not 
deny  myself.  The  Chevalier,  with  Agnes  and  another 
lady,  took  their  way  toward  the  waiting  boat,  a  flicker- 
ing lanthorn  being  borne  in  their  front.  His  words, 
"Agnes  will  be  glad  to  meet  with  you;  she  has  great 
curiosity  to  see  what  you  are  like,"  recurred  again  and 
again. 

So  she  had  deceived  him,  and  he  knew  nothing  of 
our  meetings?  Ah,  well  do  these  women  manage,  and 
we  are  ever  dupes.  And  I,  who  all  my  life  had  de- 
tested small  deceptions,  found  myself  heartily  applaud- 
ing this — was  it  not  for  my  sake.  This  secret  was  ours 
— mine  and  hers;  the  bond  which  we  two  held  in  com- 
mon apart  from  all  the  world.  A  sweet  reflection. 


228         THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

The  little  weaknesses  of  women  are  very  precious  to 
their  object,  and  if  the  deluded  one  knows  it  not,  why 
where's  the  harm?  Small  comfort  came  to  me,  how- 
ever, for  all  the  while  conscience,  like  a  burning  nettle 
in  the  side,  gave  the  lie  to  each  excuse. 

All  that  night  I  paced  about,  and  up  and  down.  At 
length  came  gray  dawn,  but  not  decision.  An  early 
fisherman  disposed  his  net  upon  the  beach.  I  watched 
him  long  in  silence,  then  abruptly  asked,  so  fiercely  that 
he  dropped  his  work: 

"Old  man,  do  you  know  of  any  other  vessel  sailing 
soon  for  the  American  Colonies  in  the  South?" 

"Aye,  sir,  there's  a  brig  fitting  out  at  Boulogne- 
sur-Mer  for  the  Spanish  seas,  to  sail  in  a  week  or  there- 
about. But,  sir,"  the  old  fellow  looked  cautiously 
about  to  assure  himself  that  no  one  else  could  hear, 
"they  say  un-Christian  things  of  that  brigand  crew. 
She  bodes  no  good." 

"A  freebooter?" 

"Aye,  sir,  or  a  privateer,  which,  they  say,  is  the 
milder  term." 

My  resolution  was  formed. 

"Await  me  here;  I  will  pay  your  gains  for  the  day  if 
you  will  but  do  me  a  slight  service. ' ' 

"Aye,  aye,  sir,"  he  responded,  touching  his  surf- 
stained  cap. 

I  returned  briefly  from  the  inn  bearing  a  note  for  M. 
de  Serigny.  Therein  I  explained  that  a  most  important 
matter  had  transpired  to  detain  me  until  another  vessel 


FROM   THE   PATH   OF   DUTY  229 

sailed,  some  few  days  at  most.     I  would  tell  him  of  it 
more  at  length  when  I  joined  him  at  Biloxi. 

I  gave  it,  with  a  broad  gold  piece,  to  the  old  fellow, 
and  directed  that  he  give  it  to  Serigny.  There  I  re- 
mained until  I  saw  the  man  clamber  up  le  Dauphin's 
side,  when  I  left  at  once,  fearing  further  communication 
from  Serigny. 

Entering  Boulogne  at  daybreak,  the  undulating  val- 
ley of  the  Liane  claimed  not  one  appreciative  glance. 
The  ancient  city  trembled  in  its  slumber  at  my  feet.  Al- 
ready it  became  restless  with  the  promise  of  another  day 
which  clad  its  gables  in  flame  and  burned  the  rough  old 
towers  with  the  shining  gold  of  God.  A  little  beyond, 
the  waters  glimmered  in  the  sun's  first  rays,  and  writh- 
ing seaward  tossed  themselves  in  anger  against  the  dim 
white  cliffs  of  our  hereditary  foes. 

As  a  picture  laid  away  in  memory  this  all  comes  back 
to  me  pure  and  fresh,  but  on  that  morning  I  gave  it  no 
heed.  From  the  heights  I  passed  along  through  quiet 
streets  into  the  lower  town,  thence  to  the  beach,  where 
I  was  soon  inquiring  among  the  sailors  for  the  pri- 
vateer. These  women  looked  askance  at  me,  and  re- 
garded my  unfamiliar  uniform  with  suspicion,  but  after 
great  difficulty  one  of  their  number  was  induced  to  carry 
me  alongside  an  ominous  looking  craft  lying  in  the  har- 
bor— a  black-hulled  brig  of  probably  six  hundred  and 
fifty  tons  burden.  Of  the  sentinel  on  deck  I  asked: 

"Your  captain — " 

"Is  here,"  and  at  the  word  a  dark,  wiry  man,  who 


23O  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

had  evidently  been  watching  my  approach,  appeared  at 
the  companion  way. 

"A  word  with  you,  sir,  if  you  are  the  captain  of  this 
craft.  I  am  told  you  are  refitting  for  a  trip  to  west 
Florida.  What  your  errand  is  I  care  not;  I  want  to  go 
with  you." 

"We  do  not  take  passengers,"  he  answered  positively. 

"Then  take  me  as  a  marine,  a  seaman,  what  you  will. 
I  am  a  soldier,  familiar  with  the  handspike  as  with  the 
sword,  though  knowing  little  of  winds  or  currents." 

Captain  Levasseur  eyed  me  closely,  asked  many  ques- 
tions concerning  my  life  and  service,  to  which  I  replied, 
truthfully  in  part.  He  seemed  satisfied. 

"Well,  we  do  need  a  few  more  stout  fellows  who  can 
handle  a  cutlass;  when  could  you  come  aboard?" 

"At  once;  I  have  no  baggage  but  the  weapons  at  my 
side." 

"Good.     Your  name?" 

"Gaspard  Cambronne,"  I  answered  at  random. 

The  freebooter  laughed. 

"We  care  nothing  for  your  name  so  you  will  fight. 
We  sail  the  day  after  to-morrow  one  week."  And  sur- 
veying my  well  knit  frame,  for  I  was  a  sturdy  youth, 
"If  you  know  any  more  stout  young  fellows  like  your- 
self we  can  give  them  a  berth  apiece." 

So  I  scrambled  aboard  without  more  ado,  and  became 
at  once  a  member  of  the  "Seamew's"  crew.  I  hardly 
knew  at  first  why  I  gave  a  false  name.  But  the  charac- 
ter of  the  vessel  was  doubtful,  its  destination  uncertain, 
and  knowing  not  what  mission  she  was  on  I  shirked  to 


FROM   THE   PATH    OF   DUTY  23 1 

give  my  real  name  and  station.  The  chance  was  des- 
perate, yet  not  one  whit  more  desperate  than  I. 

The  Seamew  sailed  more  than  three  weeks  behind 
le  Dauphin,  armed  with  letters  of  marque  from  the  King 
commissioning  her  to  prey  upon  Spanish  commerce  in 
southern  seas,  and  especially  to  take  part  in  any  expe- 
dition against  Havana  or  Pensacola. 

Our  voyage  wore  on  drearily  enough  to  me,  almost 
without  incident.  After  four  weeks  of  sky  and  sea 
we  rounded  the  southernmost  cape  of  Florida  and  turned 
into  the  Mexican  Gulf.  I  grew  more  and  more  impa- 
tient and  full  of  dread.  Le  Dauphin  had  twenty-three 
days  the  start  of  our  faster  vessel,  and  Biloxi  was  prob- 
ably at  that  moment  in  a  fever  of  warlike  preparation. 
It  was  just  possible,  too,  that  the  Spaniards  had  not  yet 
been  informed  of  the  war,  and  nothing  had  been  so  far 
done  by  them. 

Cruising  by  Pensacola  harbor,  just  outside  the  Isle  de 
Santa  Rosa,  a  pine-grown  stretch  of  narrow  sand  which 
for  twenty-five  leagues  protects  that  coast,  Levasseur 
called  me  to  him. 

"Do  you  know,  my  lad,  what  vessels  those  are  at 
anchor  in  the  harbor?" 

Two  of  them  I  recognized  as  I  would  my  own  tent, 
two  French  men-of-war  which  Bienville  had  long  been 
expecting  from  France.  The  rest  were  Spaniards,  full- 
rigged,  four  ships,  and  six  gunboats.  Levasseur  put 
the  Seamew  boldly  about  and  entered  the  harbor.  He 
signaled  the  Frenchmen,  lowered  a  boat,  and  sent  his 
lieutenant  aboard  the  flagship  with  credentials  and  a 


232  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

letter  signifying  his  readiness  to  engage  in  any  enter- 
prise. 

From  Admiral  Champmeslin,  in  command  of  the 
squadron,  he  learned  that  Bienville  and  Serigny,  com- 
bined with  the  Choctaws,  had  invested  Pensacola  by 
land,  and  on  the  morrow  a  simultaneous  attack  by  land 
and  sea  would  be  made.  The  Spanish  forces  consisted 
of  four  ships,  six  gunboats,  a  strong  fort  on  Santa  Rosa 
Island,  and  the  works  at  Pensacola,  the  strength  of 
whose  garrison  was  unknown. 

That  night  on  board  the  Seamew  was  spent  in  busy 
preparation  and  in  rest.  I  alone  was  unemployed,  my 
awkwardness  with  ropes  and  spars  forbade  it.  I  sat 
moodily  upon  a  gun  at  the  port,  and  fixing  my  eyes  on 
shore  vainly  endeavored  to  make  out  what  the  French  and 
Choctaws  were  doing  there.  To  the  left  were  the  mea- 
ger camp  fires  of  the  Indians ;  further  up  the  hills  a 
more  generous  blazing  line  marked  the  French  position. 

Gradually  a  low  wavering  sound  separated  itself  from 
the  other  noises  of  the  night,  coming  faint  but  clear  upon 
the  light  land  breeze,  the  first  quivering  notes  of  a 
Choctaw  war  chant.  How  familiar  it  was.  Was  I 
mistaken?  I  listened  more  intently.  No.  It  was  in 
very  truth  the  voice  of  Tuskahoma,  my  old  friend  on 
many  marches. 

I  cared  nothing  for  the  Seamew  or  her  crew,  and  de- 
termined to  seek  my  old  friends  to  fight  out  the  day 
with  them. 

What  little  thought  I  gave  it  justified  the  deed.  My 
position  as  an  officer  of  the  King  would  palliate  desert- 
ing the  ship  which  had  brought  me  over. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THE  FALL  OF  PENSACOLA 

{SLIPPED  down  the  anchor  chain  without  noise 
into  the  throbbing  sea,  and  swam  ashore  to  a  point 
some  three  or  four  cable  lengths  away.  Guided  by  the 
single  voice  which  still  sang  of  war,  of  glory  and  of 
death,  I  pushed  easily  into  the  ring  of  hideously  painted 
savages  who  surrounded  the  singer.  To  unaccustomed 
eyes  this  would  have  been  a  fearful  sight. 

Two  hundred  warriors  sat  motionless  as  bronze  idols 
about  their  chief;  two  hundred  naked  bodies  glinted 
back  the  pine  knot's  fitful  glow.  In  the  center  of  this 
threatening  circle  moved  Tuskahoma,  two  great  crimson 
blotches  upon  his  cheeks,  treading  that  weird  suggestive 
measure  the  Indians  knew  so  well.  Round  and  round 
a  little  pine-tree,  shorn  of  its  branches  and  striped  with 
red,  he  crept,  danced  and  sang.  His  words  came 
wild  and  irregular,  a  sort  of  rhythmic  medley,  now  soft 
and  low  as  the  murmur  of  the  summer  ocean,  now 
thrilling  every  ear  by  then-  sudden  ferocity  and  fearful 
energy.  Now  it  was  the  gentle  lullaby,  the  mother's 
crooning,  the  laughter  of  a  child;  again,  the  bursting 
(233) 


234  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

of  the  tempest,  the  lightning's  flash,  the  thunder's  rum- 
bling roar. 

His  arms  raised  to  heaven  like  some  gaunt  priest  of 
butchery,  he  invoked  the  mighty  Manitou  of  his  tribe, 
then  dropping  prone  upon  the  ground  he  crawled,  a  sin- 
uous serpent,  among  the  trees. 

For  awhile  his  listeners  wandered  away  upon  their 
chieftain's  words  to  the  waiting  ones  at  home,  to  hunt- 
ing grounds  of  peace  and  plenty ;  melodious  as  a  maid- 
en's sigh  that  song  breathed  of  love  and  lover's  hopes, 
it  wailed  for  departed  friends,  extolled  their  virtues,  and 
called  down  heaven's  curses  upon  the  coward  of  to- 
morrow's fight.  Then  the  fierce  gleam  of  shining  steel, 
one  wild  war-whoop  and  all  again  was  still.  His  words 
faded  away  in  the  echoless  night  till  a  holy  hush  brooded 
o'er  beach  and  forest. 

Then  the  solitary  dancer  wound  about  the  ring  as  the 
crouching  panther  steals  upon  her  prey,  while  peal  after 
peal  came  the  frightful  cries  of  barbaric  conflict,  the 
shrieks  of  the  wounded — a  wild,  victorious  shout  blend- 
ed with  a  hopeless  dying  scream. 

With  a  master's  touch  he  played  upon  their  vibrant 
feelings ;  not  a  key  of  human  emotion  he  left  unsounded 
— fame,  pride,  hate,  love  and  death — his  song  expressed 
them  all. 

Thoroughly  frenzied,  warrior  after  warrior  now  began 
to  join  him  in  the  ring ;  voice  after  voice  caught  up  the 
dread  refrain  which  terrorized  the  trained  soldiery  of 
Europe  and  filled  their  imaginations  with  the  nameless 
horrors  of  unrelenting  war. 


THE   FALL   OF   PENSACOLA  235 

High  above  the  din  Tuskahoma  lifted  now  his  fero- 
cious battle  cry ;  advancing  upon  the  blazed  sapling  he 
sank  his  tomahawk  deep  into  the  soft  white  wood,  then 
moved  swiftly  out  of  the  circle  to. his  own  fire.  This 
was  the  act  by  which  he  announced  his  assumption  of 
supreme  authority. 

Frantic  with  excitement  the  unleashed  throng  rushed 
upon  this  fancied  enemy,  and  soon  but  the  mangled 
fragments  and  Lhe  roots  marked  where  it  had  stood. 

And  the  forest  slumbered  and  the  sentry  paced  his 
lonely  path. 

It  is  not  my  purpose  to  speak  in  detail  of  those  mat- 
ters of  history  which  have  been  so  much  better  described 
by  men  of  learning.  I  would  merely  mention  in  pass- 
ing such  smaller  affairs  as  relate  directly  to  my  own  nar- 
rative. 

Short  and  sharp  was  the  conflict  which,  under  God, 
gave  our  arms  the  victory  at  Pensacola.  Swarming 
over  the  palisades  or  boldly  tearing  them  down,  the 
Choctaws,  led  by  Tuskahoma,  swept  the  Spaniards  from 
their  works.  It  so  happened  that  Tuskahoma  and  I 
mounted  the  fortifications  together.  As  I  essayed  to 
drop  down  upon  the  inside  my  sword  belt  caught  upon 
the  top  of  a  picket,  leaving  me  dangling  in  mid  air,  an 
easy  prey  to  those  below  had  they  only  noticed  my 
plight.  Tuskahoma  paused  to  sever  the  belt  with  his 
knife,  and  by  this  accident  I  was  first  within  the  Span- 
ish works,  sword  and  pistol  in  hand.  Soon  a  hundred 
were  by  my  side. 

The  Spanish  troops,  inured  to  civilized  warfare,  could 


236  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

not  stand  before  these  yelling  demons,  springing  here 
and  there  elusive  as  phantoms,  wielding  torch  and  tom- 
ahawk with  deadly  effect. 

In  the  very  forefront,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  with  a 
laugh  and  a  parry,  a  lunge  and  a  jest,  fought  the  Chev- 
alier de  la  Mora.  Merry  as  a  lad  at  play,  resolute  and 
quick,  I  could  but  stop  betimes  to  wonder  at  the  fellow. 
Gallant,  gay  and  debonnair,  he  sang  a  rippling  little 
air  from  soft  Provence,  and  whirled  his  blade  with  such 
dainty  skill  that  even  the  stoical  Indians  gazed  in  awe 
upon  the  laughing  cavalier.  Fighting  through  a  bye- 
street,  he  met,  steel  to  steel,  a  Spanish  gentleman, 
within  the  sweep  of  whose  sword  lay  half  a  dozen  of  our 
good  fellows. 

De  la  Mora  glanced  at  this  silent  tribute  to  the  Span- 
iard's prowess;  his  face  lighted  up  with  a  soldier's  joy. 
He  planted  one  foot  staunchly  across  a  prostrate 
corpse,  and  right  jauntily  rang  out  the  hissing  music  of 
their  steel.  Instinctively  I  paused  to  watch,  and  as  in- 
stinctively understood  that  though  pressed  to  his  best, 
de  la  Mora  desired  to  be  left  alone.  Verily  it  was  a  gen- 
tleman's fight,  and  no  odds,  for  love  and  glory's  sake, 
though  the  Spaniard  might  have  had  a  whit  the  better. 
As  I  fought  on,  I  heard  the  swift  hurtle  of  a  flying  knife, 
and  saw  the  Spaniard  drop  his  sword.  De  la  Mora 
glanced  round  with  indignant  eyes  to  the  Choctaw  who 
had  made  the  cast,  now  looking  for  approval  from  this 
gentleman  who  sang  like  a  woman  and  fought  like  a 
fiend.  The  Chevalier  was  like  to  have  wreaked  sum- 
mary vengeance  for  striking  so  foul  a  blow.  Through 


THE   FALL   OF   PENSACOLA  237 

the  press  I  could  see  him  go  up  to  his  late  adversary, 
bare-headed  and  courteous,  to  extricate  him  from  the 
motley,  bleeding  group  wherein  he  had  fallen.  Throw- 
ing his  powerful  shoulder  against  a  door,  he  broke  it 
down,  and  tenderly  carried  the  wounded  gentleman 
within.  I  could  then  see  him  quietly  standing  guard  at 
the  door,  waiting  for  the  turmoil  to  cease,  for  it  was 
then  quite  evident  that  the  day  was  ours. 

Already  the  Choctaws  were  busy  tearing  the  reeking 
scalps  from  the  living  and  the  dead.  De  la  Mora's  face 
grew  deathly  pale  at  the  sight ;  his  cheeks  did  play  the 
woman,  and  one  might  deem  him  my  lady's  dapper 
page,  catching  his  maiden  whiff  of  blood.  This  gener- 
ous act  kept  him  from  being  in  at  the  close  of  the  fray, 
and  robbed  him  of  the  greater  meed  of  glory  which  he 
might  have  thereby  won.  Twice  that  day,  as  he  struck 
down  a  pike  aimed  at  my  breast,  did  he  make  me  to  feel 
in  my  heart  like  a  lying  thief — I,  who  was  weak  enough 
to  imagine  his  dishonor. 

Just  at  the  last  there  was  a  trifling  incident  occurred 
which  my  lads  insisted  was  greatly  to  my  credit.  News 
of  this  was  carried  straight  to  the  Governor,  and  much 
was  made  thereof. 

Bienville,  with  his  Frenchmen,  battered  down  the 
gates,  and  before  many  minutes  the  proud  Castilian 
pennon  lowered  to  the  milk-white  flag  of  France.  On 
sea  and  land  were  we  alike  successful. 

An  hour  after  Pensacola  fell,  the  Spanish  ships  struck 
their  colors  to  Champmeslin.  Our  greatest  loss  was  the 


238  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

total  destruction  of  the  Seamew,  blown  up  by  a  red-hot 
shot,  which  fell  in  her  powder  magazine. 

At  the  surrender  I  caught  my  old  commander's  eye. 
He  motioned  me  to  draw  nearer.  I  obeyed  most  re- 
luctantly, for  I  expected  a  stern  rebuke  from  the  rugged 
soldier  who  never  forgave  the  slightest  deviation  from  his 
orders.  Instead,  Bienville  overwhelmed  me  with  praise. 
He  grasped  my  hand,  and  spoke  loud  enough  for  all 
the  troops  to  hear : 

"Before  our  assembled  armies  I  am  proud  to  acknowl- 
edge your  share  in  France's  triumph  this  day ;  proud 
and  grateful  for  your  fidelity  at  Versailles  and  Paris. 
Your  example  of  loyalty  and  courage  is  one  worthy  to 
be  emulated  by  all  the  sons  of  France.  The  King  shall 
have  your  name  for  further  recognition." 

This  was  a  great  deal  for  Bienville  to  say,  especially 
at  such  a  time.  My  own  lips  were  dumb. 

"Take  your  proper  place,  sir." 

And  mechanically  I  walked  to  the  head  of  my  cheer- 
ing guards.  I  was  amazed.  And  Serigny?  Had  he 
made  up  his  mind  to  overlook  my  defection?  Had  the 
Governor  forgiven  my  failure  to  return  in  le  Dauphin? 
Surely  not.  The  noble  voice  of  Bienville  broke  into  my 
puzzled  thought: 

"Captain  de  Mouret,  you  will  receive  the  surrender 
of  Don  Alphonso,  our  knightly  and  courteous  foe." 

It  thrilled  me  with  pride  that  I  should  receive  so  fa- 
mous a  sword,  for  knightlier  foeman  than  Alphonso 
never  trod  a  deck  nor  tossed  his  gauntlet  in  the  lists.  I 
stepped  forward  to  the  Spanish  lines  where  their  van- 


THE   FALL   OF    PENSACOLA  239 

quished  admiral  tendered  me  the  insignia  of  his  com- 
mand, when  on  a  sudden  thought  I  put  back  the  prof- 
fered sword,  assuring  him  so  noble  a  soldier  ought  never 
to  stand  disarmed,  and  no  hand  but  his  should  touch 
that  valiant  blade.  My  delighted  lads  cheered  again 
like  mad,  and  Bienville  himself  seemed  much  pleased  at 
my  courtesy. 

"Bravo!  Placide,"  he  exclaimed,  clapping  his  hands, 
his  rugged  face  aglow  with  martial  joy.  His  counte- 
nance changed,  however,  when  his  eye  fell  upon  the 
cringing  figure  of  Matamora,  the  commandant  of  per- 
fidious memory. 

"You,  too,  Matamora?  What,  not  yet  killed !  Hast 
saved  thy  precious  skin  again?  More's  the  pity.  And 
do  you  think  to  merit  the  respect  accorded  manhood 
and  good  faith?  By  the  name  of  honor,  no.  Here 
boy,"  and  he  beckoned  to  the  negro  slave  who  stood  at 
his  elbow,  "do  you  take  yon  dishonored  weapon  and 
break  it  before  the  troops." 

And  Matamora,  full  glad  to  escape  with  life  and  limb, 
willingly  yielded  up  his  sword  to  the  black  who  snapped 
it  under  his  foot,  obedient  to  Bienville's  nod,  then  cast 
the  tainted  pieces  from  him. 

Upon  the  long  march  to  Biloxi,  de  la  Mora  was  the 
life  of  the  command,  and  drew  to  our  camp  fire  every 
straggler  who  could  make  a  fair  excuse  to  come.  He 
knew  good  songs,  and  he  sang  them  well;  he  knew 
good  cheer,  and  he  kept  us  all  in  radiant  spirits.  All, 
save  myself.  I  was  bitterly  dejected. 


240  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

"Cheer  up,  lad,"  he'd  say,  "What  ails  you?  One 
would  think  you'd  met  reverse,  instead  of  winning  glory 
and  promotion.  It  was  a  brave  day,  and  bravely  you 
did  bear  yourself.  Would  that  Jerome  could  see." 

But  the  consciousness  of  dishonor  had  torn  elation 
from  my  soul,  though,  God  knows,  it  had  before  been 
stainless  in  thought  or  deed. 

"We'll  have  many  sweet  and  tranquil  hours  at  Biloxi 
when  days  of  peace  are  come.  My  cottage  can  be  your 
home  after  the  barracks  no  longer  claim  your  care. 
Agnes  is  the  sweetest  of  wives;  her  little  sister,  too,  a 
child,  but  fair,  and  clever  too,  beyond  her  years." 

Verily  I  cared  nothing  for  a  baby  sister.  But  Agnes? 

He  repeated  his  invitation  to  their  cottage  many 
times,  and  mentally  I  prayed,  "O  God,  lead  not  Thy 
children  into  temptation." 

When  we  had  settled  down  again  at  Biloxi,  for  days 
I  remained  to  myself  in  the  barracks,  and  saw  no  one, 
making  pretense  of  being  busy  amongst  my  men. 

De  la  Mora  rallied  me  upon  my  ungallant  conduct,  in 
denying  to  the  ladies  the  sight  of  so  famous  a  soldier. 

I  had  now  firmly  determined  to  make  it  necessary  to 
be  away  from  the  post  for  a  season,  either  in  campaign 
with  the  Choctaws  against  the  Natchez,  or  by  taking 
part  in  the  coming  siege  of  Havana.  Any  pretext  to 
get  away.  Anything  but  the  truth. 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE    CONTENTS    OF    THE    BOX 

ONE  day  very  soon  thereafter  my  servant  presented 
me  a  box,  which  he  said  had  been  brought  there 
by  an  Indian  from  Colonel  d'Ortez,  with  the  request 
that  it  be  delivered  into  my  own  hand.  And  further, 
to  beg  I  would  make  him  a  visit  as  soon  as  my  duties 
would  permit. 

The  evening  being  far  advanced  I  could  not  go  that 
night,  so  contented  myself  with  the  promise  I  would  cross 
the  bay  on  the  morrow. 

Later,  my  company  being  my  own,  I  gave  attention 
to  the  box,  such  a  metal  receptacle  as  was  commonly 
used  for  articles  of  value.  It  responded  easily  to  the 
key,  and  opened  without  difficulty. 

The  reasons  for  d'Ortez's  fear  and  retirement  lay 
bare  before  me,  if  I  would  but  search  them  out.  Within 
the  box,  bound  together  by  deerskin  thongs,  were 
many  writings,  some  on  parchment,  some  paper,  of  dif- 
ferent dates  and  degrees  of  preservation.  Some  were 
well  worn  from  age  and  handling,  others  more  recent, 
were  in  better  condition.  Some  there  were  which  ap- 
peared quite  new  and  fresh ;  these  must  have  been  the 
latest  to  find  a  resting  place  in  his  keeping, 
16— BLACK  WOLF  (241) 


242  THE    BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

All  were  arranged  in  due  and  systematic  order;  of 
whatever  age,  each  bore  a  careful  superscription,  giving 
in  brief  the  contents  of  the  paper  written  by  his  own 
exact  hand.  Beside  this,  each  document  was  num- 
bered and  placed  in  sequence.  Verily,  it  was  most  me- 
thodically done,  so  any  child  could  read  and  understand. 

It  was  with  much  misgiving  I  approached  the  task  of 
making  myself  familiar  with  my  old  friend's  secret. 
Had  he  committed  some  youthful  crime  which  weighed 
heavily  upon  his  trembling  age,  and  had  driven  him  to 
these  savage  shores,  where,  shut  out  from  all  companion- 
ship with  his  kind,  he  did  a  lonely  penance?  If  so,  I 
preferred  to  remain  in  ignorance,  for  his  was  a  friend- 
ship so  dear,  so  pure,  I  desired  not  to  taint  it  with  the 
odor  of  guilt. 

He  had,  however,  made  his  request  in  such  urgent 
terms,  even  pathetic,  I  could  not  disregard  it,  and 
putting  aside  the  reluctance  I  felt,  I  took  up  the  paper 
which  lay  on  top,  directed  to  myself,  and  began  its 
perusal.  It  was  as  follows: 

My  dear  Placide: 

The  great  feebleness  of  my  worn-out  frame  warns  me  again 
that  time  for  me  is  almost  past.  It  may  be,  when  you  recross  the 
seas,  I  shall  have  gone  to  final  judgment.  *  *  *  remember  my 
request,  and  carry  on  to  the  end  that  work  which  generations  of 
cowards  have  left  undone.  *  *  *  All  is  here  contained  in  these 
papers,  except  some  recent  news  I  have  of  the  Pasquiers  from  the 
northern  colonies. 

Possibly  if  you  went  to  Quebec  and  sought  out  the  Cure  of  St. 
Martin's  (who  wrote  this  last  letter,  No.  32)  you  may  right  it  all, 
and  give  to  my  soul  its  eternal  peace.  *  *  *  With  the  strong 


THE   CONTENTS    OF   THE   BOX  243 

affection  which  my  bodily  infirmities  have  in  no  wise  diminished, 
I  am, 

Your  old  friend. 

RAOUL  ARMAND  XAVIER  D'ORTEZ. 

of  Cartillon,  Normandy. 

Having  carefully  read  this  letter,  I  then  proceeded  to 
peruse  the  various  documents  in  the  order  he  had  ar- 
ranged them. 

The  first,  written  by  the  hand  of  the  Benedictine, 
Laurent  of  Lorraine,  Abbot  of  Vaux,  told  of  the  ad- 
mission to  the  monastery  of  a  child,  son  of  Henri 
d'Artin,  to  whom  the  good  monks  gave  the  name  Bar- 
tholomew Pasquier.  This  child,  though  designed  for 
orders,  left  the  monastery,  cast  his  fortunes  with  the 
King  of  Navarre,  and  became  a  great  officer  in  the 
household  of  King  Henri  the  Fourth. 

Other  documents  gave  an  account  of  the  posterity 
of  this  child  down  to  one  Francois  Rene  Alois  de  Pas- 
quier, who  fled  to  America  in  1674  to  escape  the  ven- 
geance of  a  certain  great  lord  whose  son  he  slew  in  a 
duel.  This  was  he  who  was  reputed  to  have  been  killed 
in  battle,  and  to  have  left  no  issue.  And  this  was  he 
whom  I  afterward  found  to  be  my  own  good  father. 

There  was  also  contained  an  account  of  the  later  life 
of  Pedro  d'Ortez,  who,  profiting  not  by  his  blood-gotten 
gains,  threw  himself,  while  in  delirium,  into  the  same 
old  well  whereon  he  had  hanged  his  brother,  Henri 
d'Artin. 

Some  further  notes  by  the  good  abbot  told  of  how 
Raoul,  the  second  son  of  Pedro,  slew  his  own  brother, 


244  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

before  their  father's  eyes,  in  order  that  he,  Raoul,  might 
be  Count  of  Cartillon.  And  this  same  Raoul,  some 
years  later,  did  have  the  locket  made  and  forced  his  own 
son  to  swear  that  he  would  restore  the  real  sons  of 
d'Artin,  the  true  children  of  the  Black  Wolf's  Breed,  to 
their  own  again.  All  of  these  accounts  are  of  surpass- 
ing interest,  old  and  quaint,  to  a  perusal  of  which  I 
recommend  my  children.* 

For  the  first  time,  in  reading  these  manuscripts,  did 
I  begin  clearly  to  associate  the  name  d'Ortez  with  the 
name  used  by  the  madman  in  his  story  at  the  old  Nor- 
man ruin.  With  this  new  light,  link  by  link  did  the 
whole  knotted  chain  untangle.  Curiously  enough,  the 
tale  I  had  heard  at  the  ruined  castle  tallied  in  the  main 
with  the  monkish  documents  here  preserved.  Indeed 
it  supplied  me  with  knowledge  of  much  which  otherwise 
I  would  not  have  comprehended  so  completely.  The 
horrible  reality  of  that  weird  recital  was  still  fresh  and 
distinct  before  me,  undimmcd  by  time  and  unforgotten 
through  all  my  troubles. 

I  had  sought  refuge  many  times  from  brooding  over 
my  own  affairs  by  turning  to  this  for  interest  and  occu- 
pation. Every  further  detail  was  supplied  by  a  number 
of  quaint  documents,  which  Colonel  d'Ortez  had  di- 
gested into  this : 

*These  documents  have  been  included  in  an  appendix  to  this  volume. 


THE   CONTENTS    OF  THE    BOX 


245 


TABLE  SHOWING  THE  MALE  DESCENDANTS  OF 


HENRI  d'ARTIN  ANI 

Henri  Francois  Placide  d'Artin,  died 
Aug.  26, 1572. 

Bartholemew  Pasquier  (son  of  above), 
died  1609. 

Bartholemew  PlacidePasquier") 
killed  in  wars  of  the  Fronde.  I  Sons  of 

Henri  Louis  John  (brother  to  f  above, 
above),  died  1654. 

Francois  Rene  Xavier  de  Pasquier 
(ennobled),  killed  1650. 

Francois  Rene  Alois  de  Pasquier,  fled 
to  America.  Supposed  to  have  been 
killed  about  1681.  No  known  de- 
scendants. Well  known  to  the  Cure 
of  St.  Martin's,  Quebec. 


OF  PEDRO  ORTEZ. 

Pedro  d'Ortez,  suicided  1604. 


ou 

Raoul,  died  1618.  }  above' 

Charles  Francis  Peter  (son  of  Raoul), 

died  without  issue. 
Pedro  d'Ortez  (brother  to  above),  died 

1663. 

Henry  (son  of  above),  killed  in  battle. 
Alphonze,  killed  in  battle. 
Felix,  died  in  infancy. 
Raoul  Armand  Xavier  d'Ortez, 

born  1641    (myself).     Died 

-  .    No  children. 
She  who  was  born  ray  daughter  I  dis- 

owned, and  she  died  without  issue. 


Sons  of 
above. 


It  appeared  that  the  only  thing  to  be  done  was  to 
visit  the  good  Cure  of  St.  Martin's,  and,  enlisting  him 
in  the  search,  find  whatever  descendants  might  have 
been  left  by  this  Francois  Rene  Alois  de  Pasquier.  The 
task  need  not  be  a  difficult  one,  as  many  old  people 
should  still  be  living  who  might  have  known  of  the  man.* 

I  now  bethought  me  of  this  enterprise  as  a  fair  excuse 
whereby  I  could  leave  Biloxi  for  a  space.  I  would, 
therefore,  call  upon  my  old  friend,  and  having  obtained 
leave,  matters  now  being  safe  with  the  colony,  make  the 
journey  to  Quebec. 

But,  alas  for  the  weakness  of  fallen  humanity;  my  last 
act  before  putting  myself  out  of  temptation's  way  was 
to  run  full  tilt  into  it. 

While  this  came  so  near  to  causing  my  dishonorable 
death,  yet  it  was,  under  Divine  Providence,  the  direct 
means  of  spreading  before  me  a  long  life  of  happiness 

*A  very  slight  investigation  showed  that  this  last  named  Francois  Rene 
Alois  de  Pasquier  was  none  other  than  my  own  good  father,  who  assumed  the 
name  de  Mouret  to  avoid  the  consequences  of  a  fatal  duel  in  France.  This  I 
learned  from  the  pious  Cure  of  St.  Martin's,  who  knew  him  well. 


246  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

and  honor.  After  a  hard  battle  with  my  weaker  self  I 
lost  the  fight. 

Just  as  on  the  day  I  departed  from  Versailles,  I  deter- 
mined, cost  what  it  would,  to  see  Agnes  once  again.  So 
I  wrote  her  a  note.  Such  a  blunt  and  clumsy  billet  as 
only  a  love-sick  soldier  or  a  country  clown  could  have 
written.  It  craved  pardon  for  the  heat  and  the  haste 
displayed  by  me  when  we  parted  at  Sceaux ;  it  implored 
one  last  interview  before  I  left  the  colonies  forever.  I 
had  not  the  art  to  conceal  or  veil  my  meaning,  but  told 
it  out  and  plainly.  Such  a  note  as  an  idiotic  boy  might 
pen,  or  a  simpering  school  lass  be  set  fluttering  to  re- 
ceive. 

I  bade  my  man  deliver  this  to  Madame  de  la  Mora 
on  the  morrow,  charging  him  minutely  and  repeatedly 
to  see  it  safe  in  her  own  hands.  So  careful  was  I,  I  did 
not  doubt  that  even  so  stupid  a  lout  as  Jacques  under- 
stood me  perfectly. 

His  further  instructions  were  to  meet  me  at  the  Bay 
when  I  should  return  in  the  evening  from  my  visit  to 
Colonel  d'Ortez,  and  there  beside  its  rippling  waters — 
or  so  I  had  arranged — I  was  to  receive  her  answer. 

It  had  now  turned  late  of  the  night,  and  I  sought  re- 
pose. Sleep  evaded  my  bed.  What  with  my  own  rest- 
less desires,  my  chiding  sense  of  ill-doing,  and  the 
d'Ortez  story  I  had  read,  I  tossed  and  tumbled  through 
the  remaining  hours  of  darkness.  Tumbled  and  tossed, 
whilst  the  sins  and  sufferings  of  men  long  dead  passed 
and  repassed  with  their  spectral  admonitions. 

Early  on  the  morrow,  while  the  day  was  yet  cool,  I 


THE   CONTENTS   OF  THE   BOX  247 

crossed  the  Bay,  and  climbed  the  slope  of  sand  before 
the  lonely  house.  It  looked  more  deserted  and  deso- 
late than  I  had  ever  seen  it.  The  stillness  of  solitary 
death  clung  as  a  pall  about  the  place.  Pachaco,  the 
Indian  servant,  sat  beside  the  gate,  as  motionless  as  the 
post  against  which  he  leaned. 

"How  is  the  master,  Pachaco?"  I  inquired,  passing 
in. 

"Him  die  yesterday,"  came  the  stolid  reply. 

"What?     Dead!     When?" 

"The  shadows  were  at  the  longest,"  he  answered,  in- 
dicating by  a  gesture  the  western  horizon. 

I  hurried  into  the  master's  room.  In  the  same 
position  he  had  occupied,  when,  months  ago,  he  had 
beckoned  me  to  remain,  he  sat  there,  dead  in  his 
chair.  His  clothing  hung  about  him  in  that  sharply 
angular  fashion  in  which  garments  cling  to  a  corpse. 
Long,  thin  locks  were  matted  above  his  brow, 
awesomely  disarranged.  But  the  pose  of  his  head, 
drooped  a  little  forward,  suggested  a  melancholy  reverie, 
nothing  more. 

The  golden  locket,  which  he  had  shown  me  that  well- 
remembered  night,  rested  within  his  shrunken  palm.  I. 
noted  that  the  side  was  open  which  revealed  the  blazing 
bar  of  red.  As  if  absorbed  in  that  same  unpleasant 
thought,  there  sat  the  master,  dead;  dead,  and  I  alone 
knew  his  story.  How  vividly  the  old  man's  sorrow 
came  back;  how  it  oppressed  me. 

I  bent  down  in  tender  sympathy  to  look  again  upon 
his  wasted  features,  and  kneeling,  gazed  into  his  wide- 


248       •  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

open  eyes.  The  calm  of  promised  peace  upon  his 
brow  was  distorted  by  the  unsatisfied  expression  of  one 
who  has  left  his  work  undone. 

So  are  the  sins  of  the  fathers  visited  upon  their  chil- 
dren, for  I  was  no  longer  in  doubt  but  that  the  mur- 
derer, Pedro  Ortez,  was  the  sinning  ancestor  of  my  old- 
time  friend.  Even  in  his  presence  my  thoughts  flew  to 
Agnes;  had  she  not  spoken  of  her  grandsire  as  being 
such  a  man?  The  stiffening  body  at  my  side  was  speed- 
ily forgotten  in  the  music  of  this  meditation. 

I  gained  my  feet  again  and  looked  down  upon  him, 
fascinated  by  the  changeless  features  of  the  dead.  It 
was  probably  natural  that  standing  there  I  should  re- 
volve the  whole  matter  over  and  over  again,  from  the 
first  I  knew  of  it  until  the  last.  A  young  man's  plans, 
though,  work  ever  with  the  living ;  the  dead  he  places 
in  their  tomb,  covers  them  with  earth,  bids  them  "God- 
speed," and  banishes  the  recollection.  I  was  already 
busy  with  my  contemplated  search  for  the  last  d'Artin, 
and  stood  there  leaning  against  the  oaken  table  ponder- 
ing over  the  question,  "Where  is  the  last  d'Artin?" 

My  mind  wandered,  returning  with  a  dogged  persist- 
ence to  that  one  thought,  "Where  is  the  last  d'Artin?" 
"Where  could  /  find  him?"  My  restless  eyes  roamed 
round  the  cheerless  room,  coming  always  back  to  rest 
upon  a  long  dust-covered  mirror  set  in  the  wall  across 
the  way. 

As  wind-driven  clouds  gather  and  group  themselves 
in  fantastic  shapes,  so,  deep  in  that  mirror's  shadowy 


'  That  long  rigid  finger  pointed  directly  at  me  from  out  the  dusty  plass."  p  250. 


THE   CONTENTS   OF   THE   BOX  249 

depths,  a  vague  figure  gradually  took  form  and  charac- 
ter— myself. 

With  the  vacant  glance  of  a  man  whose  mind  is  in- 
tensely preoccupied,  I  studied  minutely  the  reflection, 
my  own  bearing,  my  dress,  my  weapons.  I  even  noted 
a  button  off  my  coat,  and  tried  dimly  to  remember  where 
I  had  lost  it,  until — great  God — this  chamber  of  death 
and  revelation  had  turned  my  brain. 

What  face  was  that  I  saw?  My  own,  assuredly,  but 
so  like  another. 

Aghast,  powerless  to  move  or  cry  out,  I  stared  help- 
lessly into  the  glass.  Every  other  sensation  vanished 
now  before  this  new-born  terror  which  held  my  soul  en- 
slaved. I  closed  my  eyes,  I  dared  not  look. 

My  body  seemed  immovable  with  horror,  but  a  trem- 
bling hand  arose  and  pointed  at  the  mirror.  Scant  need 
there  was  to  call  attention  to  that  dim,  terrible  presence; 
my  whole  soul  shrank  from  the  ghostly  face  reflected  in 
the  glass.  For  there,  there  was  the  same  pallid  coun- 
tenance, death-distorted  and  drawn,  which  I  had  con- 
jured up  in  many  a  frightened  dream  as  that  of  the 
murdered  Count — there  was  Henri  d'Artin. 

How  long  I  stood  transfixed,  pointing  into  the  mirror, 
I  know  not.  As  men  think  of  trifles  even  in  times  of 
deadly  fear,  so  did  my  lips  frame  over  and  over  again 
the  last  question  I  had  in  mind  before  all  sense  forsook 
me,  "Where  is  the  last  d'Artin?  Where  is  the  last 
d'Artin?  Where—?" 

And  in  answer  to  my  question,  that  long,  rigid  finger 


250  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

pointed  directly  at  me  from  out  the  dusty  glass.  It  was 
as  if  the  hand  of  the  dead  had  told  me  who  I  was. 

It  had  been  no  blind  chance,  then,  which  led  me  to 
the  Paris  house  of  the  "Black  Wolf's  Head;"  the  girl's 
ring  with  the  same  device,  and  the  grewsome  narrative 
beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Wolf  at  the  Norman  ruin — 
nothing  less  than  fate  had  brought  these  lights  to  me. 

Verily  some  more  logical  power  than  unreasoning  ac- 
cident must  direct  the  steps  of  men.  A  God  of  justice 
perhaps  had  placed  these  tokens  in  my  path.  And 

soldiers  call  this  "Fortune." 

****** 

I  dispatched  Pachaco  tp  Biloxi  with  the  news  of 
death,  and  long  before  the  afternoon  our  few  simple  ar- 
rangements for  his  funeral  had  been  made. 

"Bury  me  here,  Placide,  beneath  this  great  oak,"  he 
had  said  to  me  one  day.  "The  Infinite  Mercy  will  con- 
secrate the  grave  of  penitence,  wherever  it  may  be." 

He  had  his  wish, 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A  NOTE  WHICH  WENT  ASTRAY. 

MEANWHILE  Jacques  had  undertaken  to  manage 
my  little  affair  at  Biloxi  with  tact  and  discretion. 
And  this  is  how  the  fellow  did  it : 

It  seems  that  Jacques  thought  no  harm  of  the  note, 
and  when  he  took  it  first  to  the  house  my  lady  was  out. 
The  honest  fellow,  doing  his  best  to  carry  out  my  in- 
structions, refused  to  leave  it.  When  he  returned,  my. 
lady  worked,  bent  down  amongst  her  flowers,  in  the  little 
garden  beside  their  cottage.  The  Chevalier  stood  some 
distance  off,  busied  someway,  Jacques  knew  not  how, 
but  with  his  face  turned  away  from  my  messenger  as  he 
came  up.  Jacques  handed  the  note  to  my  lady  through 
the  fence,  and  she  took  it  gently  by  the  corner,  fearing 
to  soil  it.  She  held  it  up  to  look  at  the  name  written 
upon  it,  and  seeing  it  was  her  own,  looked  again  more 
curiously  at  the  writing.  She  did  not  know  the  hand. 
Then  she  gaily  called  to  the  Chevalier : 

"Oh,  Charles,  come  here;  see  what  I  have;  it  is  a 
missive  to  your  wife,  and  from  some  gay  gallant,  too. 
I  do  not  know  the  writing.  Do  you  come  here  and  read 
it  to  me.  My  hands  are  so — ' '  She  held  up  two  small 
white  hands  dabbled  in  the  dirt. 


252  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"Perhaps  some  invitation  to  a  court  ball.  We'll  go, 
eh,  Agnes?" 

He  came  like  the  fine,  strong  gentleman  he  was, 
across  the  garden,  taking  the  note  from  her  and  tearing 
it  open.  He  began  straightway  to  read,  my  lady  on 
tip-toe  behind  him  reading  over  his  shoulder,  and  hold^ 
ing  her  contaminated  hands  away  from  his  coat.  His 
face  grew  puzzled  at  the  first,  then  as  he  seemed  to 
finish,  he  stood  a  pace  apart  from  my  lady  and  read 
again.  There  was  murder  in  his  face — yet  so  white  and 
quiet. 

He  threw  down  the  note  and  ground  it  into  the  soft 
earth  beneath  his  heel.  Then  he  caught  my  lady  firmly 
by  both  her  shoulders  and  held  her  fast,  at  full  arm's 
length,  gazing  steadily  into  her  face. 

"God  in  heaven,"  as  Jacques  said  to  me;  "Master, 
what  eyes  has  that  Chevalier  de  la  Mora !  No  man  could 
lie  to  him  with  those  eyes  reading  what  a  fellow  thought. ' ' 
Jacques  could  not  make  himself  to  leave ;  he  stood  rigid 
and  watched. 

"Well,  Madame?" 

"She  tried  to  laugh,  but  her  husband's  face  forbade 
that  this  could  be  a  spark  of  lover's  play. 

"Well,  Madame?" 

"Why,  Charles,  what  is  the  matter  with  you,  you 
behave  so  strangely?" 

The  Chevalier  had  grown  an  older  man,  his  face  stern 
and  resolute,  eyes  a-glitter,  and  mouth  drawn  in  tense, 
determined  lines.  A  most  dangerous  man. 

"Why,  Charles,  what  is  the  matter?" 


A   NOTE   WHICH    WENT   ASTRAY  253 

"When  did  you  meet  him  at  Sceatix?  What  did  you 
do?" 

"Meet  who?" 

"Don't  lie  to  me,  woman,  I  am  in  no  mood  for  sub- 
terfuge." 

She  besought  him  with  one  frightened  look,  one  step 
forward  to  him  as  if  for  protection,  which  he  repelled ; 
then  she  looked  as  though  she  might  weep. 

"Neither  do  you  weep.  Tell  me  how  many  notes 
like  this  have  you  received?" 

"Like  what?  I  could  not  read  it,  you  held  it  so 
high,"  she  sobbed. 

The  Chevalier  stooped  down,  picked  up  the  crumpled 
paper  from  the  earth,  and  smoothed  it  out  He  then 
handed  it  to  her,  and  regarded  her  face  intently  as  she 
read  it. 

"Read  this,  Madame,  and  see  how  careless  you  have 
been." 

And  my  lady  read  the  note ;  she,  too,  read  it  again,  the 
first  reading  not  sufficing  her  to  understand.  Then  she 
looked  at  her  husband  with  great  wide-open  eyes ;  she 
was  now  calm,  and  as  quiet  as  he. 

"Truly,  Charles,  I  know  nothing  of  this." 

"  It  was  always  said,  Madame,  at  Sceaux,  you  could 
take  the  stage  and  play  the  parts  of  distressed  and  vir- 
tuous damosels,"  he  answered  her,  coldly  curling  his  lip. 

"Tell  me,  Madame,  as  you  value  your  soul,  what  is 
this  Captain  de  Mouret  to  you?" 

"As  I  value  my  soul,"  my  lady  answered  him  direct 
and  steadily,  looking  straight  into  his  eye,  her  own 


254  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S    BREED 

hands  folded  across  her  heaving  breast.  "As  I  value 
my  soul,  Charles,  I  know  nothing  of  him." 

"What  does  he  mean  when  he  says  here  'I  was  hasty 
and  too  impulsive  when  we  parted  in  the  chapel  at 
Sceaux'  ?  " 

"Upon  my  honor,  Charles,  I  do  not  know.  I  never 
saw  the  man  in  all  my  life — to  know  him." 

"Upon  your  honor"  the  Chevalier  repeated. 

And  my  lady's  cheek  flushed  fire.  But  her  form 
straightened  up,  and  her  eyes  met  his  unflinching,  with- 
out guilt  or  fear.  The  Chevalier  turned  and  caught 
sight  of  Jacques,  for  the  lout,  according  to  his  story, 
had  grown  to  the  spot  as  firm  as  one  of  the  oaks. 

"Here,  you  fellow,  come  here,  come  here!" 

And  Jacques  dared  not  disobey  him. 

"Here,  fellow,  how  many  notes  like  this  have  you 
brought  to  my  wife?" 

"Only  that  one,  my  lord."  Jacques  started  in  by  tell- 
ing the  truth,  and  he  followed  it  up  religiously.  Ac- 
cording to  his  account  of  it,  the  Chevalier  looked  him 
straight  through  and  through  until  he  dared  not  tell 
a  lie. 

"Mind  that  you  tell  me  the  truth.  Who  gave  you 
this  note?" 

"Captain  de  Mouret." 

"When?" 

"Last  night." 

"Where?" 

"At  his  quarters." 

"To  whom  did  he  say  you  should  deliver  it?" 


A   NOTE   WHICH    WENT   ASTRAY  2$ 5 

"To  Madame  Agnes  de  la  Mora." 

The  Chevalier  stooped,  picked  up  the  envelope,  and 
re-read  the  superscription,  handing  it  over  to  my  lady, 
who  took  it  unseeing. 

"Did  he  expect  a  reply?" 

"Yes,  my  lord." 

"And  where  did  he  say  to  bring  it?" 

"Bring  it  to  him  when  he  returned  from  across  the 
Bay  this  afternoon.  I  was  to  await  him  upon  the  shore.' 

"At  what  hour?" 

"None  was  named,  my  Lord ;  he  said  it  would  be  late, 
perchance  " 

Verily,  as  Jacques  told  it  me,  he  must  have  drained 
the  stupid  fellow  dry. 

Then  the  Chevalier  turned  to  my  lady  with  the  ut- 
most courtesy: 

"What  say  you,  Madame,  shall  I  bear  your  reply  to 
this  gentle  captain?  For  by  my  faith,  Madame,  you  re- 
quire a  more  careful  go-between  than  this,  one  more  dis- 
creet and  less  glib  of  tongue." 

"Charles,  upon  my  honor,  I  know  nothing  of  all  this; 
I  have  never  seen  this  Captain  de  Mouret." 

He  looked  as  if  he  did  not  hear  her.  He  glanced  at 
the  sun,  full  two  hours  high,  drew  his  sword  and  started 
to  leave  the  garden. 

He  paused  to  doff  his  cap,  and  say,  "I  bear  your 
message  for  you,  Madame;  verily,  I  am  honored." 

My  lady  neither  screamed  nor  fainted  during  his 
questioning  of  Jacques ;  she  stood  and  listened  as  one 


256  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

dazed,  or  who  but  dimly  understood.  The  Chevalier 
strode  out  sword  in  hand. 

"For  shame,  Charles,"  she  called  to  him  calmly 
enough,  though  she  was  deadly  pale,  "here  is  some 
wretched  mistake — " 

"Yes,  there  does  appear  to  have  been  a  mistake — in 
the  delivery  of  this  precious  billet.  I  will  speedily  make 
that  right." 

"Charles,  Charles!" 

He  turned.  Her  bearing  was  full  as  proud  as  his. 
He  looked  from  the  woman  to  the  paper  in  his  hand. 

"Well,  if  you  know  not  this  man,  then  he  has  wan- 
tonly insulted  you.  I  shall  await  this  Captain  de  Mouret 
by  the  water,  and  there  I  shall  know  the  truth.  He 
shall  explain  what  means  this  pretty  letter  to  my  wife." 

Jacques  watched  her  proudly  erect  figure  enter  the 
door.  He  saw  her  sway  a  moment  in  indecision,  then 
sink  beside  the  bed  to  pray.  She  came  shortly  to  the 
door  again  and  called  him.  The  fellow's  brain  worked 
slowly,  and  he  had  not  yet  comprehended  the  extent  of 
mischief  he  had  done.  That  he  had  done  something 
amiss,  though,  he  began  to  understand. 

"You  had  that  note  from  Monsieur  le  Capitaine  de 
Mouret?" 

"Yes,  Madame." 

"And  he  said  deliver  it  to  me?" 

"To  Madame  Agnes  de  la  Mora.     Am  I  not  right?" 

"Yes,  I  am  Madame  Agnes  de  la  Mora,  but  that  note 
was  not  intended  for  me." 


A   NOTE  WHICH   WENT  ASTRAY  257 

She  came  closer  to  Jacques,  so  close  indeed  she  laid 
her  trembling  hand  upon  his  sleeve. 

"Tell  me — you  know  this  Captain  de  Mouret  well — 
tell  me  if  you  would  save  an  innocent  woman,  has  this 
Captain  de  Mouret  a  love  affair  here?  Answer  me,  an- 
swer me  truly,  has  he  a  love  affair,  or — or  a  mistress?" 

Her  innocence  and  direct  question  abashed  Jacques 
sorely  and  set  him  a  wondering  what  manner  of  es- 
capade was  this  his  master  had  got  into. 

"I  will  go  to  her,  be  she  what  she  may,  go  to  any- 
body ;  my  husband  must  not  kill  this  innocent  man.  No ; 
and  here  I  disturb  myself  about  my  own  reputation, 
while  two  lives  are  in  jeopardy.  I  must  think,  I  must 
act — but  how?" 

And  she  broke  down  to  weep  again,  showing  the  wo- 
man in  her  that  was  behind  so  brave  a  front.  Her  tears 
were  not  for  long.  Jacques  felt  it  was  his  turn  now  to 
say  something,  so  he  blundered  out,  "See  the  Gover- 
nor;" then  one  whit  better  he  went,  "/  will  see  the 
Governor  for  you." 

The  good  fellow  had  in  that  moment  for  the  first  time 
realized  that  he  could  stop  the  affair,  and  do  it  he 
would  if  he  had  to  quit  the  colony.  And  she  such  a 
lovely  lady,  so  gentle  with  the  poor. 

"Do  you  not  fear  to  speak  with  him  of  such  as  this?" 

"No,  Madame,  Bienville's  soldiers  do  not  fear  him; 
they  leave  that  for  his  enemies." 

And  so  it  fell  out  that  Jacques  told  the  Governor. 
And  he  told  him  all. 
17— BLACK  WOLF 


258  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

It  was  ever  Bienville's  wont  to  act  with  quick  decision. 

"Order  Major  Boisbriant  to  report  to  me  at  once." 
And  off  posted  Jacques  upon  his  errand. 

That  officer  attended  with  military  promptitude. 

"Major  Boisbriant,  do  you  seek  on  the  instant  the 
Chevalier  de  la  Mora,  and  bear  him  company  wherever 
he  may  go  until  you  are  relieved.  Put  upon  him  no  re- 
straint, and  say  nothing  of  your  having  such  orders 
from  me  if  you  can  avoid  it.  There  is  trouble  brewing 
here,  which  I  want  to  prevent;  an  affair  of  honor,  you 
understand.  He  has  gone  toward  the  landing  on  the 
Bay.  Be  discreet  and  delicate." 

Boisbriant  nodded  his  comprehension,  saluted,  and 
was  gone.  Bienville  turned  to  Jacques. 

"Saddle  my  horse  at  once  and  bring  him  here." 

It  was  much  later  than  I  had  hoped  before  I  could 
with  decency  return  to  Biloxi.  Impatient,  childish  and 
excited  I  recrossed  the  bay,  leaving  a  little  detail  of 
soldiers  to  watch  beside  the  body  of  my  friend.  As  soon 
as  I  saw  Jacques  on  the  other  shore  I  knew  something 
had  gone  wrong.  That  senseless  knave  was  pacing  un- 
certainly about  the  beach,  stopping  here  and  there  to 
dig  great  holes  in  the  sand  with  his  toe,  and  carefully 
filling  them  up  again.  The  fellow,  ever  on  the  watch 
for  me,  was  at  the  same  time  watching  the  path  from 
Biloxi,  and  seemed  to  dread  my  coming.  Instead  of 
meeting  me  at  the  water,  he  waited  for  me  to  approach 
him,  thus  leaving  the  two  boatmen  out  of  hearing. 

"Well,  give  me  the  note;  why  stand  there  like  a  driv- 


A   NOTE   WHICH    WENT   ASTRAY  259 

eling  fool,"  for  the  fellow's  hesitant  manner  angered  and 
frightened  me. 

"There  is  no  note,  sir." 

"No  reply?" 

"The  lady  sent  none." 

"Why?" 

Under  my  questions  Jacques  turned  red  and  pale, 
then  he  blundered  out : 

"The  Chevalier  de  la  Mora  said  he  would  bring  the 
answer  to  you  himself — at  the  shore." 

He  kept  his  eyes  fast  riveted  upon  another  hole  he 
was  digging  in  the  sand. 

"The — Chevalier?"  I  knew  what  that  meant.  Great 
God !  and  this  was  the  end  of  it  all. 

"Tell  me,  you  bungling  fool,  what  knows  he  of  this?" 

"Pardon,  Master;  I  thought  no  harm  of  it;  you  had 
never  before  employed  me  on  such  an  errand." 

It  was  now  my  own  turn  to  seek  the  ground  with  my 
eyes,  so  just,  so  humble  was  the  rebuke. 

"I  thought  no  harm  of  it,  sir,  and  gave  it  to  Madame 
in  the  garden ;  she  called  upon  the  Chevalier  to  read  it 
for  her." 

"What  said  he?     To  her?     Was  he  violent?" 

"No  sir,  most  polite;  terribly  polite,  and  cool;  but, 
master,  you  must  not  meet  him;  he  will  kill  you." 

Of  this  I  had  scant  doubt. 

"Did  he  make  no  sign  as  if  he  would  do  her  harm?" 

"No,  sir,  not  then,  but  he  looked  so  queer  one  could 
hardly  say  what  he  meditated.  I  would  not  care  to 
have  him  look  at  me  like  that." 


26O  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

I  was  paralyzed  by  the  suddenness  of  the  ill-fortune 
which  had  befallen,  but  I  was  to  be  allowed  no  day  of 
grace  in  which  to  plan  a  line  of  conduct.  My  face  had 
been  turned  all  this  while  toward  the  sea,  there  being 
something  soothing  to  me  about  the  long,  even  sweep 
of  those  bright,  blue  waters  in  the  south. 

Jacques  faced  the  town.  I  noted  a  deprecatory  gest- 
ure, and  following  his  gaze  saw  the  Chevalier  himself 
coming  our  way  at  a  good  round  pace.  My  knees  did 
quake,  and  the  veriest  poltroon  might  have  well  been 
ashamed  of  the  overweening  fear  which  possessed  me. 
In  defense  of  which  I  may  say,  I  believe  it  was  due  in 
large  part  to  my  great  respect  and  fondness  for  de  la 
Mora,  as  well  as  a  deep  consciousness  of  the  justice  of 
his  cause.  From  long  habit  I  looked  first  to  my  weap- 
ons, but  for  once  felt  no  joy  in  them. 

"Captain  de  Mouret,"  he  greeted  me  with  a  soldier's 
formal  courtesy. 

"Chevalier  de  la  Mora." 

"Captain,  I  have  the  honor  to  return  to  you  a  note 
which  I  believe  bears  your  name,"  and  he  handed  me 
the  unfortunate  billet. 

"Am  I  right?     Is  that  your  hand?" 

I  scorned  to  lie,  and  answered  him  evenly: 

"It  is." 

"Is  that  note  properly  directed?  To  Madame  de  la 
Mora?" 

"It  is,  but — " 

"Have  you  any  explanation,  sir,  to  offer?" 

For  the  life  of  me  I  could  think  of  nothing  to  say ;   I 


A   NOTE  WHICH   WENT  ASTRAY  26 1 

could  not  tell  him  the  truth,  neither  could  I  lie  to  him 
with  grace.  So  I  simply  said : 

"It  was  not  her  fault,"  probably  the  worst  remark  I 
could  have  made. 

"Then,  this  note  is  true?  You  did  meet  my  wife  by 
appointment  in  the  ruined  chapel  at  Sceaux?" 

"No,  by  my  honor,  there  was  no  appointment;  I 
came  upon  her  by  chance,  and  through  no  consent  of 
hers." 

"And  so  you  presumed  to  meet  my  wife  in  a  lonely 
place — which  she  denies  to  me  upon  her  honor,  as  you 
now  swear;  you  were  there  'hot,  impulsive  and  hasty' 
which  this  honorable  missive  of  yours  craves  pardon  for. 
Now  you  seek  another  private  interview  which  you  say 
you  can  not  live  without?" 

I  nodded  moodily,  wishing  only  to  have  the  matter 
over,  and  avoid  his  further  questioning. 

"By  my  soul,  Captain,  I  am  rejoiced  to  find  you  so 
frank — rejoiced  that  you  do  not  lie.  The  other,  God 
knows,  is  bad  enough." 

I  winced,  but  held  my  tongue. 

"Our  business,  then,  is  plain  enough;  and  there  is  no 
time  like  the  present." 

So  saying  he  cast  off  his  coat  and  began  to  roll  his 
sleeves  back,  leaving  bare  that  magnificent  forearm  of 
his,  supple  and  dexterous.  Imitating  him  we  were  both 
soon  stripped  for  action. 

I  had  only  my  light  rapier,  worn  about  the  garrison, 
while  he  was  armed  with  his  heavy  campaign  blade.  I 
was  already  a  dead  man,  or  so  I  felt,  for  there  was  no 


262  THE   BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

spirit  in  me  for  the  fight.  Our  blades  crossed,  and  im- 
mediately he  noted  the  disparity  of  arms. 

"Captain,"  he  remarked,  composedly,  drawing  back 
a  pace.  "This  is  a  bad  business;  I  shall  surely  kill 
you,  but  wish  to  do  so  as  a  gentleman.  Permit  me  to 
exchange  our  weapons,  so  you  fence  not  at  such  great 
disadvantage." 

And  he  offered  me  the  hilt  of  his  own  reversed  sword. 

"Chevalier  de  la  Mora,  you  are  a  gallant  gentleman, 
will  you  believe  a  man  who  has  not  yet  lied  to  you,  and 
who  feels  a  word  is  your  due?" 

"Be  quick,"  he  replied,  "we  maybe  interrupted." 

"I  have  wronged  you  and  will  render  full  atone- 
ment. But  it  has  only  been  a  wrong  of  the  heart ;  one 
of  which  I  had  no  control,  no  choice.  Your  sweet  wife 
has  never,  by  word  or  deed,  dishonored  the  noble  name 
she  bears." 

"Of  course,  Captain,  it  is  a  gentleman's  part  to  make 
such  protestations.  It  is  fruitless  for  us  to  discuss  this 
matter  further,  except  as  we  had  so  well  begun." 

So  intent  were  we  both  that  neither  had  seen  Jacques 
leave  us,  nor  had  either  heard  the  swift  hoof  beats  of  a 
horse  upon  the  deadening  sand,  until  the  rider  was  full 
upon  us." 

Bienville.  Behind  him,  on  foot,  just  emerging  from 
the  brush  some  distance  away,  Boisbriant  and  Jacques. 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen,  put  by  your  weapons.  What 
does  this  mean?"  He  had  flung  himself  from  his  horse 
and  stood  between. 

De  la  Mora  sullenly  dropped  his  point. 


A   NOTE   WHICH    WENT   ASTRAY  263 

"A  mere  private  matter  of  honor,  sire." 

"Are  there  so  few  enemies  of  France  with  whom  to 
fight  that  you  must  needs  turn  your  swords  at  each 
other  to  rob  me  of  a  good  soldier  when  I  need  every 
one?" 

By  this  time  Boisbriant  and  Jacques  had  come  up, 
and  Bienville  commanded : 

"Major,  do  you  accompany  the  Chevalier  de  la  Mora 
to  his  quarters.  You  will  take  his  parole  to  remain 
there  during  the  night,  and  he  will  report  to  me  at  ten 
to-morrow.  Placide,  do  you  come  with  me." 

He  gave  up  his  horse  to  Jacques,  and  taking  me  by 
the  arm  led  me  in  the  direction  of  the  garrison.  Truly, 
I  was  in  no  better  plight,  for  I  feared  reproof  from  the 
Governor  more  than  the  steel  of  de  la  Mora.  During 
all  this  time  I  said  no  word.  We  returned  to  Biloxi  in 
absolute  silence.  Bienville,  with  all  a  gentleman's  in- 
stinct, recognized  the  delicacy  of  my  position. 

The  Governor  took  me  at  once  to  his  own  room,  and 
sat  me  down  at  the  table. 

'  'Now,  Placide,  tell  me  all  about  this  miserable  affair. ' ' 

"I  can  not,  sire;  believe  me,  I  can  not.  I  beg  of 
you  not  to  put  upon  me  a  command  I  must  disobey. 
This  wretched  matter  is  not  for  me  to  tell,  even  to  you." 

"A  woman?" 

I  held  my  peace. 

"Yes,  I  thought  as  much.  Is  it  your  fault  or  his, 
Placide?" 

"Mine.' 


264  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

He  drummed  on  the  table  with  his  fingers  a  while  be- 
fore he  spoke  again. 

"Then,  my  lad,  there  is  but  one  thing  I  can  do,  that 
is  to  send  you  away  from  here  at  once.  You  can  leave 
this  place  to-night,  seek  out  Tuskahoma,  make  your 
way  to  Pensacola,  thence  to  Havana,  where  I  warrant 
you  will  find  other  occupation.  Or,  if  you  so  desire,  I 
will  accredit  you  to  Governor  Frontenac  in  the  north." 

I  chose  Havana,  there  being  the  greater  prospect  of 
active  service  there.  It  took  the  methodical  Governor 
but  brief  space  to  give  me  such  letters  as  would  insure 
me  fitting  reception  from  our  brave  fellows  at  Pensa- 
cola. He  placed  them  in  my  hand,  and  I  quietly  rose 
to  bid  him  good-night,  and  good-bye.  I  would  not 
have  ventured  upon  anything  more  than  a  formal  word 
of  parting,  for  I  had  the  consciousness  of  having  done 
much  to  forfeit  his  regard.  Hut  the  old  man  came  over 
and  put  his  arms  about  me  as  he  might  a  beloved  son. 

"Placide,"  he  said,  "it  grieves  me  to  the  soul  for  you 
to  leave  me.  I  love  you,  boy,  as  I  do  my  own  flesh. 
You  have  served  me  truly,  always  with  affection  and 
honor.  I  respect  your  silence  now,  and  ask  you  for  no 
confidences  not  your  own.  Serigny  has  told  me  how 
faithful  you  were  in  Paris,  and  what  he  heard  from  oth- 
ers of  your  interview  with  the  King.  Placide,  my  lad, 
even  now  it  fires  my  blood  to  think  of  a  boy  of  mine 
standing  before  the  mighty  Louis,  surrounded  by  our 
enemies,  and  daring  to  tell  the  truth.  It  was  glorious, 
glorious,  and  it  saved  your  Governor.  I  had  minded 
me  in  an  idle  day  to  hear  it  all  from  your  own  lips. 


A   NOTE  WHICH   WENT  ASTRAY  265 

Perhaps,  some  day,  who  knows,  it  may  yet  come.  You 
will  lose  not  an  hour  in  leaving  Biloxi,  and  I  have  your 
word  to  engage  in  no  encounter?" 

"Aye,  sire,  5*011  have  my  word." 

"Good-by,  Placide." 

1  had  dropped  upon  my  knee,  and,  taking  his  hand, 
kissed  it  gently.  He  turned  hack  into  his  room,  shut 
the  door,  and  left  me  alone  in  the  hall.  I  walked  thence 
straightway  to  my  own  quarters,  put  on  hastily  the  garb 
of  the  forest  and  made  all  readiness.  My  toilet  was  not 
etohorato,  and  a  shovl  hall  houi  found  DM  COOtpktelj 
equipped  for  the  journey. 

Leaving  Biloxi,  unaccompanied,  like  a  thief  in  the 
night,  I  set  out,  and  having  reached  the  Bay  winded  a 
horn  until  Pachaco  heard,  then  sat  me  down  to  wait  for 
his  boat. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

THE   CHILDREN  OF  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED 

A  CCORDING  to  the  Governor's  recollection,  I  had 
1\  been  gone  only  a  short  space  when  a  peremptory 
knock  came  upon  his  door.  He  opened  it,  and  there 
stood  the  Chevalier  de  la  Mora,  dishevelled  and  with 
evidences  of  haste,  but  courteous  as  was  his  wont. 

"I  desire  to  speak  with  Captain  de  Mouret,  at  once, 
at  once." 

"That  you  can  not  do;  he  has  gone.  Chevalier,  I 
am  astonished.  Had  I  not  a  gentleman's  parole  that 
you  should  remain  in  your  house  this  night?" 

"You  had,  sire,  but  the  conditions  were  urgent,  and 
see,  I  have  sought  Captain  de  Mouret  without  arms,  so 
no  breach  could  occur  between  us." 

"Fortunately,  M.  le  Chevalier,  Captain  de  Mouret  has 
consented  to  leave  this  colony  to-night,  and  before  the 
day  dawns  he  will  doubtless  be  many  miles  away. 

The  Chevalier  heard  like  one  dumb  and  undecided,  a 
great  doubt  tugging  at  his  heart.  He  departed  unstead- 
ily in  the  direction  of  the  barracks. 

"Here,  my  good  fellow,  hast  seen  Captain  de 
Mouret?"  he  inquired  of  a  straggler. 

The  man  saluted. 

(266) 


THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S  BREED   267 

"Yes,  sire,  he  but  lately  went  the  path  towards  the 
Bay." 

"How  long  since?" 

"A  bare  quarter  of  an  hour.  He  was  dressed  for  the 
forest  and  went  alone." 

During  this  while  I,  Placide  de  Mouret,  stranger 
and  outcast,  sat  upon  a  grassy  hillock  awaiting  Pachaco 
wjth  his  boat.  The  echoes  of  my  horn  had  died 
away  in  the  night,  and  soon  after  I  caught  the  sound  of 
running  feet,  and  heard  a  man's  voice  calling  my  name 
as  he  ran.  To  my  utter  astonishment  it  was  the  Cheva- 
lier, breathless  from  his  speed. 

"Is  it  you — Captain  de  Mouret?" 

"It  is — Chevalier,"  I  replied,  uncertain  at  the  first 
who  the  man  could  be. 

Seeing  him  in  such  a  state  of  mind  I  knew  the  strug- 
gle had  come.  There  be  times  in  every  man's  life 
when  he  recks  lightly  of  consequences,  and  this  was  not 
my  night  for  caring.  I  had,  in  a  measure,  run  away 
thus  far  from  him,  and  he,  not  content  with  this,  had 
pursued  me  past  the  limit  of  forbearance.  So  anticipat- 
ing his  own  action,  I  began  carefully  to  take  off  my  own 
coat,  and  remembered  with  pleasure  that  it  was  not  a 
slight  rapier  which  now  hung  confidently  by  my  side. 

"No,  Captain,  not  that.  I  have  sought  you  this  time 
in  peace.  See,  I  have  no  weapons." 

Suiting  the  gesture  to  the  speech,  he  flung  wide  his 
arms,  and  showed  himself  unprepared  for  battle. 

"Captain,  you  and  I  have  fought  side  by  side.  You 
are  a  man  of  courage,  and  if  you  have  injured  me  you 


268  THE  BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

will  render  me  due  account  upon  my  demand.  I  do 
demand  this  of  you  now,  that  you  return  with  me  to 
Biloxi  at  once,  upon  my  assurance  as  a  soldier  that  no 
harm  will  there  befall  you.  This,  sir,  upon  a  soldier's 
honor." 

It  was  a  most  unexpected  outcome  to  such  an  inter- 
view. I  hesitated  warily  at  his  request,  and  then  think- 
ing it  could  make  matters  no  worse,  inquired : 

"How  long  will  you  require  me,  and  for  what  pur- 
pose?" 

'  'The  time  will  be  most  brief,  a  moment  should  suf- 
fice. The  purpose  I  can  not  give,  but  it  will  bring  you 
into  no  danger.  I  repeat,  upon  the  word  of  a  man  of 
honor,  that  you  will  be  permitted  to  return  safely  as  you 
came,  and  no  one  will  follow." 

I  must  say,  in  spite  of  these  protests,  I  did  not  want 
to  go.  But  he  pressed  his  wish  so  earnestly  that  I  fol- 
lowed the  Chevalier  down  the  winding  path  back  to 
Biloxi,  not  without  great  trepidation,  however.  He 
walked  rapidly  in  front,  and  not  a  word  was  exchanged 
between  us.  We  passed  the  barracks  and  the  Gov- 
ernor's house,  where  I  thought  to  stop,  but  he  led  me  on. 
Leaving  the  thicker  portions  of  the  little  town,  he  soon 
paused  before  his  own  gate  and  swung  it  open.  The 
wild  thought  now  entered  my  brain  that  perhaps  he  had 
planned  some  terrible  revenge  upon  his  wife,  and  de- 
sired to  torture  me  by  forcing  me  to  witness  it.  I  hung 
back  at  the  gate.  My  own  good  sword  re-assured  me, 
and  he  mounted  the  step  to  throw  open  the  door. 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED      269 

"Come  in,  Captain.  I  regret  that  I  can  not  give  you 
a  more  sincere  welcome." 

Truly,  there  was  nothing  in  the  aspect  of  the  room  to 
cause  alarm.  Two  ladies  were  inside,  one  at  either  end 
of  a  simple  working  table — Agnes  and  another  lady, 
about  her  own  figure,  whom  I  did  not  know.  The  elder 
woman  looked  straight  in  my  face  with  an  anxious  air. 

The  Chevalier  did  not  formally  present  me.  Agnes 
drooped  her  head  somewhat,  and  never  raised  her  eyes 
at  my  entrance.  It  was  a  most  awkward  situation.  As 
to  what  de  la  Mora  contemplated  I  could  not  venture  the 
wildest  guess ;  certainly  no  violence  in  the  presence  of 
this  other  lady  who  looked  so  cool  while  yet  so  pale. 

"Captain  de  Mouret,  as  you  hope  for  your  soul's  sal- 
vation, I  conjure  you  to  tell  me  the  whole  truth.  I  do 
solemnly  promise  you,  upon  a  soldier's  honor,  at  the 
very  worst  which  may  come,  I  will  only  leave  this  col- 
ony, and  will  not  injure  any  one." 

I  had  seen  de  la  Mora  on  many  a  field,  but  never  did 
he  look  stronger  or  nobler  than  on  that  night.  His 
voice  sounded  full  and  clear  despite  the  intensity  of  his 
suffering. 

"Captain  de  Mouret,  you  are  a  soldier,  a  brave  one, 
as  my  own  eyes  have  witnessed,  reputed  a  man  of  un- 
tarnished honor.  Will  you  truly  answer  me  one  ques- 
tion upon  the  sacred  Blood  of  Christ?" 

His  earnestness  appealed  to  every  better  instinct  of 
my  nature,  so  I  replied  to  him: 

"I  will." 

"Have  I  your  oath?" 


2/0  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED 

"You  have." 

"Then,  sir,  to  which  of  these  ladies,  if  either,  did  you 
intend  this  note  should  be  delivered;  and  which,  if 
either,  did  you  meet  at  the  ruined  chapel  at  Sceaux? 
Speak,  in  God's  name,  and  do  not  spare  me!  Suspi- 
cion is  more  terrible  than  truth." 

The  very  worst  had  come,  and  I  felt  my  resolution 
waver.  I  knew  not  what  story  Agnes  had  told  her  hus- 
band, nor  did  I  know  who  that  other  lady  was.  She 
looked  enough  like  Agnes  to  have  afforded  shallow  pre- 
text for  an  evasion.  Verily  here  was  a  strong  temptation 
for  a  lie,  and  I  was  almost  minded  to  tell  it  and  relieve 
Agnes.  Agnes,  though,  would  give  me  no  cue;  never 
once  did  she  lift  her  eyes  to  mine.  I  might  even  then 
have  told  the  lie,  but  for  the  reflection  it  would  compro- 
mise an  innocent  woman. 

"Captain,  in  God's  name,  speak!  do  you  not  see 
that  I  am  quiet  and  self-controlled?" 

' '  Chevalier  de  la  Mora,  I  shall  tell  you  the  exact 
truth,  and  hold  you  to  your  promise  that  there  shall  be 
no  violence — now.  What  I  did  was  through  my  fault 
alone,  nor  did  your  lady  give  me  the  slightest  encour- 
agement— she  is  blameless.  It  is  a  sore  strait  you  have 
placed  me  in,  but  this  is  the  lady  who  has  all  a  soldier's 
love,  and  a  soldier's  respect,  which  she  has  done  noth- 
ing to  forfeit." 

As  I  spoke,  I  indicated  the  shrinking  figure  of  Agnes, 
and  turned  to  meet  the  storm.  Verily  the  storm  did 
come,  but  from  a  different  source. 

The  elder   lady  rose  with  a  fervent  "Thank   God!" 


THE   CHILDREN   OF  THE   BLACK   WOLF'S   BREED      2/1 

which  I  could  find  no  reason  for  her  saying.  Agnes 
nervously  twisted  at  the  table  cover,  her  cheeks  crimson 
with  the  shame.  I  could  not  resist  a  long  look  down 
upon  her,  and  do  what  I  might,  my  love  showed  full  and 
strong  in  my  face  and  mien. 

De  la  Mora  keenly  watched  us  all.  That  other  lady, 
for  whom  I  had  no  thought,  to  my  utter  surpiise, 
moved  toward  him  with  hands  outstretched,  and  cried: 
"Charles." 

For  a  moment  he  hesitated,  then : 

"Oh,  Agnes,  Agnes,  a  lifetime's  love  and  service 
can  not  compensate  you  for  what  I've  made  you  suffer 
— the  doubt  I  bore  my  loyal  wife." 

He  fell  upon  his  knee  before  her  and  carried  her  hand 
to  his  lips  as  though  she  were  a  goddess,  and  then  sprang 
toward  me  with  the  gladdest  of  glad  smiles,  thrust  his 
hand  at  me,  and  came  near  to  cracking  mine  by  the 
vigor  of  his  grasp.  His  throat  choked  up,  and  he  said 
nothing. 

And  all  this  while  I  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with 
a  most  dull  and  stupid  stare. 

Agnes  looked  up  at  me  once,  radiant  and  confused, 
then  lowered  her  eyes  again. 

The  Chevalier  broke  a  silence  which  was  becoming 
intolerable,  to  me  at  least,  who  did  not  understand  it  all. 

"Captain  de  Mouret,  you  have  been  in  error,  and 
have  done  me  no  wrong.  This  lady  here  is  my  wor- 
shiped wife,  Madame  Agnes  de  la  Mora."  I  looked 
upon  her  incredulously,  while  that  gracious  woman  took 


2/2  THE  BLACK  WOLF'S   BREED 

one  hand  from  her  husband  long  enough  to  extend  to 
me  her  greeting. 

Thoroughly  perplexed  by  this  most  unlocked  for  de- 
nouement, I  asked: 

"Who,  then,  is  this?" 

"This  chit,"  he  replied,  walking  round  the  table, 
happy  as  a  boy,  and  almost  lifting  her  bodily,  "this  is 
Madame's  little  sister,  Charlotte.  She  confessed  this 
evening  to  having  spoken  with  you  once  in  the  Chapel  at 
Sceaux — and  I,  may  God  forgive  me,  doubted  but  she 
had  done  it  to  shield  her  sister  I  knew  the  little  minx 
had  warned  you  in  the  Park,  but  thought  nothing  of  it. 
Charlotte,  come  here ! ' ' 

And  Charlotte  de  Verges  laid  her  warm  little  hand  in 
mine.     For  thirty  years  it  has  rested  there  in  peace. 
******** 

Thus,  through  many  strange  perils  and  purifying  sor- 
rows came  the  abiding  happiness  which  blessed  these  last 
two  children  of  the  "Black  Wolf's  Breed." 


FINIS 


APPENDIX 


IS-BLACK  WOLF         (273) 


I  have  included  here  the  full  text  of  the  docu- 
NOTE  BY  ments  contained  in  the  iron  box,  sent  to  Placide  de 
OR<  Mouret  by  Colonel  D'Ortez,  just  prior  to  his  death. 
One  of  these  papers,  that  showing  the  male  descendants  of  Henri 
d'Artin  and  of  Pedro  Ortez,  which  proved  that  Francois  Rene 
Alois  de  Pasquier  was  the  father  of  Placide  and  which  indicated 
that  the  wife  of  the  Chevalier  de  la  Mora  and  her  sister  were  the 
grandchildren  of  Colonel  D'Ortez,  was  set  out  in  the  body  of  the 
narrative  and  will  be  found  in  Chapter  XXII.  These  supplement- 
ary documents  (which  are  historically  accurate)  confirm,  not  only 
the  story  related  by  Colonel  D'Ortez  to  Placide,  but  also  the  strange 
story  told  by  mad  Michel  under  the  shadow  of  the  Castle  of  Car- 
tillon.  While  they  may  add  little  to  the  narrative  interest  of  the 
main  story,  these  documents  serve  to  confirm  some  of  the  least 
credible  incidents  of  the  tale,  and  it  was  thought,  therefore,  worth 
while  to  include  them  here. 


(275) 


DOCUMENT  No.  I 

Document  No.  I,  indorsed  on  back,  "Notes  chiefly  written  by  the 
Abbot  of  Vaux." 

In  Nomine  Pafris,  et  Filii,  et  Sanctus  Spiritus.     Amen. 

I,  Laurent  of  Lorraine,  Benedictine,  by  Divine  permission  Ab- 
bot of  Vaux,  do  make  these  writings  and  divers  memoranda,  partly 
from  my  own  unworthy  knowledge,  and  partly  from  facts  openly 
notorious  and  resting  on  the  testimony  of  witnesses  as  credible  as 
there  be  in  this  world  of  falsehood  and  vanity. 

All  of  which  latter  portion,  concerning  one  Pedro  d'Ortez  and 
his  descendants,  is  here  set  down  at  the  special  prayer  and  per- 
suasion of  said  d'Ortez,  a  profane  and  sacrilegious  lord,  yet  whose 
past  service  to  the  Holy  Church  should  not  be  forgotten,  though 
his  late  riotous  and  ungodly  life  hath  much  grieved  the  faithful 
brotherhood. 

THEREFORE,  I,  Laurent,  Abbot,  as  above  stated,  do  make  and 
inscribe  this  chronicle,  beginning  this,  the  2gth  day  of  June,  in  the 
year  of  grace,  one  thousand  five  hundred  and  seventy-six,  accord- 
ing to  the  eccleciastical  computation. 

And  herein: 

ITEM  the  first— (Being  a  copy  of  entries  made  by  my  own  hand 
upon  the  register  of  the  monastery,  now  preserved  in  the  archives 
of  the  same.)  Aug.  26,  1572.  Admitted  to  the  sanctuary  and 
protection  of  the  monastery  this  day  a  certain  suckling  babe, 
aged  about  two  years. 

The  infirm  servitor  by  whom  said  babe  was  tended,  dying  the 
same  day,  despite  all  efforts  and  prayers. 

August  28th,  1572.  Died  August  26th,  1572,  at  Cartillon,  Henri 
Francois  Placide  d'Artin,  Count  of  Cartillon,  Seigneur  de  Mas- 
signac,  etc.,  a  heretic  and  apostate,  falling  before  the  wrath  of 

(277) 


2/8  APPENDIX 

God  on  occasion  of  the  pious  stratagem  of  the  Feast  of  the  Blessed 
Bartholomew,  arranged  by  Her  Most  Gentle  Majesty,  and  the  du- 
tiful son  of  Church,  Henri,  due  de  Guise. 

Note.  The  babe  aforementioned  being  the  son  and  heir  of  above, 
was  admitted  to  communion  of  the  church  and  baptized  Barthol- 
omew Pasquier. 

Further  note.  Sept.  Qth,  1589.  Bartholomew  Pasquier  being 
designed  for  orders,  but  unruly  and  rebellious  in  spirit,  ran  away 
upon  the  murder  of  our  good  King  Henri,  third  of  that  name,  and 
joined  himself  with  the  armies  of  the  heretic  Henri,  Prince  of 
Bearne,  self-styled  King  of  France  and  Navarre. 

Afterward,  when  the  said  Henri,  repenting  of  his  errors,  re- 
united with  the  true  Church,  said  Bartholomew  appears  again  as  a 
major  in  his  guards,  holding  a  firm  place,  it  was  said,  in  the  King's 
favor. 


DOCUMENT  No  2 
(Abbot  Laurent's  writing) 

Statement  of  Brothers  Anselmo  and  Jehan,  touching  the  rites  of 
exorcism  by  them  administered,  contra  d&monios,  to  the  temporal 
and  seigneural  lord,  Pedro  d'Ortez,  Count  of  Cartillon — fourteenth 
of  said  lordship — a  man  of  profane  blood,  dying  in  grievous  tor- 
ment of  soul,  possessed  of  foul  and  wicked  fiends — may  God  protect 
all  true  Christians  from  the  same.  AMEN. 

ANSELMO  DI  NAPOLI. 

JEHAN  DE  TOURS. 

In  Nomine  Patris,  et  Filii,  et  Sanctus  Spiritus.     Amen. 

It  was  come  the  early  part  of  the  night  when  there  arose  at  the 
outer  gate  such  an  unseemly  clattering  of  hoofs  and  rattle  of 
worldly  weapons  as  greatly  terrified  our  humble-minded  brethren, 
engaged  at  their  devotions. 

The  holy  Abbot,  being  retired  at  his  prayer  and  pious  medita- 
tions, Brother  Jehan,  worthy  and  devout,  in  humility  of  spirit 
inquired  of  their  errand.  Being  informed  in  hot  haste  that  the 
puissant  and  mighty  Lord  of  Cartillon  lay  dying  in  sin,  possessed 
of  frenzies  and  fiends,  and  stood  in  need  most  urgent  of  extreme 
unction,  we  deliberated  thereupon  together. 

"Hurry,  haste,  good  fathers,  ere  it  be  too  late;  we  have  here  two 
stout  palfreys  to  bear  you  to  his  couch." 

The  Abbot  having  in  due  season  come  forth  from  his  closet,  we 
were  commanded  to  go  forthwith  to  minister  to  the  needs  of  the 
noble  Count. 

Provided  with  holy  oil,  and  the  ritual  for  casting  out  demons, 
bearing  a  piece  of  the  true  cross,  before  which  no  evil  being  can 
prevail,  we  rode  away  at  so  rough  a  pace  withal,  through  constant 

(279) 


280  APPENDIX 

urging  and  imprecations  of  the  men  at  arms,  as  caused  us  to  be 
sorely  shaken  and  disturbed,  both  in  mind  and  body. 

Arrived  at  Cartillon,  we  made  great  speed  to  repair  to  his  bed- 
side, where,  of  a  truth,  the  man  lay  flat  of  his  back,  weak  in  flesh, 
but  stout  and  rebellious  of  soul,  contrary  to  the  doctrines  of  our 
most  blessed  religion. 

Before  he  caught  sight  of  us,  he  moaned  and  .heaved,  pointing 
his  fingers  ever  out  of  the  window,  and  uttering  strange  heathen 
blasphemies — whereat  we  crossed  ourselves  piously. 

Following  the  direction  of  his  gaze  we  saw  naught  save  the 
starlit  dome  of  heaven. 

The  eyes  of  the  demon  gave  him  power  to  see  diabolical  and 
unclean  forms. 

Sorely  distracted  thereat,  he  cried  out  in  direst  fear: 

"Hence  !  Hence  !  Seek  my  mother  in  Hell,  for  it  was  her  doing. 
I  would  have  spared  the  women." 

The  man  being  clearly  possessed  of  an  evil  demon,  we  immedi- 
ately made  ready  the  sacred  offices  of  the  church  for  the  casting 
out  of  such. 

Believing  from  the  demon  voice  issuing  through  the  possessed 
man's  lips  that  it  was  the  woman  fiend,  Lilith,  who  in  female 
guise  doth  walk  the  earth  in  darkness,  we  resorted  with  much 
speed  to  the  office  specially  prepared  for  that  evil  and  depraved 
being. 

The  holy  ritual  was  being  devoutly  read  by  Brother  Anselmo, 
when  the  man,  turning  in  his  couch,  caught  sight  of  us  at  our  sa- 
cred labors.  He  thereupon,  with  many  profane  and  blasphemous 
oaths,  bade  us  cease  and  begone. 

"Out!  Out  upon  you,  thou  shaveling  hypocrites!  Thinkest  thou 
I  am  become  a  helpless  woimn  to  profit  of  thy  mummeries?  No, 
by  the  body  of  Jupiter.  Get  out!  get  out!" 

"Oh,  weak  and  rebellious  son  of  Holy  Church,  calm  thy  troubled 
spirit  and  take  unto  thyself  the  most  blessed  peace  of  God.  Re- 
pent thine  errors,  and  prepare  thy  mind  for  the  Paradise  of  the 
just." 

Verily,  it  was  an  evil  and  malignant  demon  which  controlled 
him,  for  the  words  but  struck  a  pagan  madness  to  his  heart,  and 
he  sprang  from  his  couch. 

"Hush!    Hush  your  priestly  lies,  which  sink  a  new  terror  in 


APPENDIX  28l 

my  soul.  It  can  not,  can  not  be,  this  other  world  where  men  re- 
ceive the  reward  or  punishment  drawn  upon  themselves  in  this. 
Thou  liest,  thou  canting  monk-faced  coward  ;  it  is  all  a  lie  of  priest- 
craft. 

"  There  is  no  God,  no  Hell ;  no,  I  will  not,  will  not  believe  it.  Get 
thee  hence  before  I  drive  thee  to  the  gibbet  and  fling  thy  quarters 
to  hawk  and  hound." 

We  crossed  ourselves  in  horror,  kissing  the  piece  of  the  true 
cross,  fearing  his  presence  and  terrible  blasphemy  would  draw  a 
bolt  from  Heaven.  But  there  he  stood,  for  some  divine  purpose 
secure  in  his  body  from  the  vengeance  of  God. 

So  fierce  a  fire  consumed  his  strength  he  sank  again  in  mortal 
weakness  on  his  couch. 

We  watched  him  long.  He  gazed  as  one  fixed  by  an  evil  eye, 
through  the  open  window  straight  toward  an  ancient  well  across 
the  court-yard. 

He  mumbled  words  whereof  we  could  only  guess  the  import. 
He  raised  a  long,  thin  finger,  knotted  at  the  joints,  and  pointed  to 
the  well: 

"  Do  you  hear  it?  Oh,  mother,  mother,  it  was  your  doing !  Listen 
now.  Dost  hear  their  cries  in  Hell?  See,  see,  the  body  turns  and 
swings,  softly,  softly,"  and  he  covered  his  face,  uttering  the  most 
plaintive  cries. 

He  started  up  again  and  went  to  the  window,  stretching  out  his 
arm  as  before.  We  could  see  nothing  but  the  court  and  old  well, 
long  dry  of  water. 

"See,  there  she  is;  see,  see;  I  come,  I  come." 

And  regarding  not  our  sacred  relics  or  adjurations,  he  passed 
out  the  door,  down  the  stair  of  winding  stone,  through  the  men 
who,  palsied  by  craven  fears,  put  not  forth  their  hands  to  stay ; 
staring  before  him  with  wide-open  eyes  which  saw  not,  d'Ortez 
strode  through  them  all  into  the  vacant  court-yard. 

No  pause  he  made,  but  straightway  went  toward  the  well, 
whither — at  some  distance  be  it  humbly  confessed — we  followed. 

At  first  he  but  peered  within  and  listened ;  then  he  stood  quiet 
for  a  space,  as  if  he  waited,  for  what  we  could  not  tell. 

None  of  us  being  sufficiently  near  to  prevent,  and  the  power  of 
the  demon  prevailing  over  weak  and  mortal  flesh,  he  mounted  the 
curb,  and,  amid  the  most  horrid  shrieks,  cursings  and  revilings 


282  APPENDIX 

proceeding  from  the  foul  demon  Lilith,  he  plunged  himself  bodily 
in  the  darkness  below,  wherefrom  came  only  faint  groans  for  a 
short  space. 

Thus  died  Pedro  d'Ortez,  Lord  of  Cartillon. 

Leaving  the  task  of  getting  out  his  body  to  those  vassals  who, 
greatly  perturbed  in  spirit,  gathered  at  the  spot,  we  hastened 
away  horrified  at  such  abominations  of  Beelzebub  as  we  had  wit- 
nessed, being  for  our  fear  and  little  faith  made  culpable  before 
God,  and  hoping  to  repurchase  peace  by  great  penitence. 

Report  made  and  rendered  to  the  Most  Reverend  and  Illustri- 
ous Father  in  God,  Laurent,  Abbot  of  the  Monastery  of  Vaux,  this 
the  tenth  day  of  July  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand  five  hun- 
dred and  ninety-six. 

(Signed)  ANSELMO  DI  NAPOLI, 

JEHAN  DE  TOURS. 


DOCUMENT  No.  3 
(Concerning  Raoul  d'Ortez) 

Indorsed  on  back,  "Further  notes  by  Abbot  of  Vaux." 

In  Nomine  Patris,  et  Filii,  et  Sanctus  Spiritus.     Amen. 

Further  facts  having  come  to  my  knowledge,  in  this,  the  year  of 
grace  one  thousand  five  hundred  and  eighty  nine,  which  do  most 
gloriously  illustrate  the  dispensations  of  a  just  God,  and  His  visita- 
tion of  the  sins  of  the  father  upon  the  children  of  them  who  hate 
Him,  it  is  deemed  meet  and  proper  that  they  be  here  set  down 
and  perpetuated  for  that  future  generations  may  know  the  truth; 
Therefore: 

Be  it  held  in  everlasting  memory,  that  Pedro  d'Ortez,  the  same 
who  has  been  by  me  beforementioned  as  of  a  profane,  carnal  and 
blood-guilty  life,  living  not  with  the  fear  of  God  before  his  eyes, 
but  filled  with  evil  at  the  instigation  of  the  devil:— The  said 
Pedro  having  at  this  period  two  sons,  desired  that  the  elder  should, 
according  to  secular  law,  inherit  his  title  and  lands.  He  desired 
also,  that  the  younger,  Raoul,  might  enter  the  armies  of  the  King. 
But  Raoul,  nothing  loath,  in  so  far  as  the  fighting  there  was  con- 
cerned, lusted  yet  for  the  gold  and  acres  which  were  his  father's. 
Pedro,  the  elder  brother,  being  of  a  mild  and  amiable  temper,  de- 
signed more  for  the  cloister  than  the  camp,  Raoul  jested  and  jibed 
at  him  alway  for  his  gentle  disposition  and  meekness  of  spirit. 

All  of  these  facts  being  stated  and  related  to  me  by  Brother  Ju- 
lian, who  went  betimes  to  the  castle  for  alms  and  tithes— which 
same  were  frequent  denied  and  withheld,  to  the  great  detriment  of 
our  just  dues. 

One  day,  after  a  more  than  usually  violent  quarrel  between 
Pedro  and  Raoul,  their  father  came  suddenly  upon  them  in  a  re- 
tired portion  of  the  castle  grounds.  The  sight  was  enough  to 
(283) 


284  APPENDIX 

startle  even  a  man  so  used  to  shedding  human  blood  as  had  been 
the  Lord  of  Cartillon. 

Pedro  was  slowly  sinking  to  the  ground,  easing  himself  down 
somewhat  upon  his  knees  and  elbows.  Hisbrothei  stood  near  watch- 
ing, and  calmly  wiping  the  red  drippings  from  his  sword  upon 
the  grass.  Not  a  semblance  of  regret  did  he  show  for  the  deed 
of  blood. 

The  father  gazed  transfixed  with  horror  from  one  son  to  the 
other,  until  the  slow  comprehension  came  to  him. 

"How  now,  Raoul,  what  hast  thou  done?"  the  older  man  de- 
manded of  Raoul. 

"Canst  thou  not  see?  He  stood  between  me  and  the  lordship 
of  this  fair  domain,"  the  younger  replied  full  as  sturdily,  hot  and 
scornful,  with  lowering  brow  and  unrepenting  glare. 

"Thou  foul  and  unnatural  murderer,  and  thinkest  thou  to  profit 
by  thy  brother's  death?  No;  I  swear—" 

"Hold,  old  man;  swear  not  and  taint  not  thy  soul  with  perjury. 
Have  a  care  for  thine  own  safety.  It  is  now  but  the  feeble  barrier 
of  thy  tottering  age  which  prevents  all  these  acres,  these  fighting 
men,  these  towers  from  being  my  own.  Have  a  care,  I  say,  that 
thou  dost  not  lie  as  low  as  he,  and  by  my  hand." 

The  old  man  fell  back  a  pace  affrighted,  feeling  for  the  first  time 
in  his  life  a  fear,  fear  of  his  own  son.  Yet  the  scornful  and  defi- 
ant face  before  him  was  that  of  his  true  child.  Therein  he  saw  re- 
flected his  own  turbulent  and  reckless  youth.  The  wretched  old 
man  covered  his  face  from  the  sight  of  Pedro,  his  first  born,  who 
had  settled  down  upon  his  back  in  the  repose  of  death,  and  moaned 
aloud  in  his  agony. 

"Nay,  sorrow  not,  my  father,"  Raoul  commanded  harshly,  "it  was 
but  a  weakling  who  stood  next  thy  seat  of  power.  Behold  1  I,  too, 
am  thy  son;  I  am  stronger,  of  a  stouter  heart,  abler  and  more  cour- 
ageous than  he,  and  will  make  thee  a  fitter  heir.  Didst  thou  not 
slay  thy  brother  to  sit  in  his  hall?  Didst  not  thou  hang  him  to 
drink  his  wine,  to  command  his  servants?"  Have  I  done  aught 
but  follow  thy  example?" 

Heedless  of  his  father's  sobs  Raoul  pursued  his  unrelenting  pur- 
pose. 

"What  the  sword  did  for  thee  it  has  done  for  me,  all  glory  to  the 


APPENDIX  285 

sword,"  and  he  raised  the  reeking  blade  to  his  lips  to  kiss.  The 
elder  man  shrank  away  from  him  as  he  approached. 

"Nay,  as  I  tell  thee,  draw  not  thy  hand  away,  turn  not  from  me, 
or  by  the  blood  of  Christ,  by  thine  own  gray  hairs,  I'll  lay  thee 
beside  thy  woman-son,  the  puny  changeling  whose  face  now  is 
scarce  paler  than  his  blood  was  thin.  Now,  by  the  God  who  made 
ye,  swear  'twill  be  given  out  as  but  an  accident,  and  no  man  will 
ever  know  from  thee  the  truth." 

"I  swear,  I  swear,"  the  old  man  repeated  piteously  after  his  son. 

And  so  it  came  to  be  that  Raoul,  the  second  son,  succeeded  his 
father  as  Lord  of  Cartillon. 

And  thus  is  the  promise  of  the  Lord  God  made  true. 


DOCUMENT  No.  4 
(Concerning  the  making  of  the  locket) 

Extracts  from  the  statement  of  Miguel  Siliceo,  goldsmith,  of 
San  Estevan  de  Gormaz,  as  given  in  presence  of  Brothers  Jehan 
and  Hubert,  only  such  portions  being  here  set  out  as  have  relation 
hereto,  for  the  sake  of  greater  brevity  and  perspicuity. 

Said  Miguel  Siliceo,  Spaniard,  sojourning  in  the  town  of  Rouen, 
having  come  to  the  Monastery  of  Vaux  to  unburthen  his  soul  of 
certain  diabolical  knowledge  and  happenings  which  preyed 
thereon,  to  his  great  distress  and  distraction  of  mind,  having  first 
solemnly  sworn  upon  the  name  of  St.  lago  of  Compostella,  his 
patron,  to  speak  truth,  did  say:  *  *  * 

I  came  to  Chateau  Cartillon  in  the  year  of  grace  one  thousand 
six  hundred  and  forty-two,  upon  the  solicitation  of  its  lord,  he 
having  known  me  upon  the  banks  of  the  Douro  for  a  master  work- 
man, well  skilled  in  rare  and  curious  devices,  both  of  metals  and 
precious  stones.  For  more  than  two  years  I  rested  in  and  about 
the  castle,  seeing  much  whereof  my  soul  hath  need  of  ease  and 
God's  forgiveness.  *  *  * 

*  *  *  One  day  Count  Raoul,  being  vexed  and  much  disturbed, 
commanded  my  attendance  upon  him. 

"My  good  Miguel,"  he  spake  in  voice  much  softer  than  was  his 
wont,  "I  do  require  of  you  a  proof  of  utmost  skill." 

I  bowed  my  willingness  to  undertake  a  commission. 

"I  require  a  golden  locket,  such  as  man  never  saw  before,  of 
rare  and  cunning  device.  Do  you  forthwith  make  it  for  me,  show- 
ing upon  the  one  side  the  black  wolf's  head  of  d'Artin,  and  quar- 
terings,  in  fairest  inlaid  work.  Upon  the  other  and  hidden  side, 
let  it  appear  the  black  wolf's  head  as  before,  but  surcharged  with 
the  bar  sinister.  You  know.  And  let  it  be  concealed  by  so  se- 
cretly a  hidden  spring,  no  hand  but  mine  can  touch  or  find,"  and 
as  he  spoke  on,  his  tongue  flew  the  faster,  his  eyes  roved  about,  he 
(286) 


APPENDIX  287 

kept  tight  grip  upon  his  sword  as  if  he  feared.  He,  Raoul  of  Car- 
tillon,  the  man  whose  headlong  courage  was  an  army's  byword,  he 
feared  in  his  own  hall. 

Even  so,  for  proceeding  further,  his  speech  grew  more  wild,  and 
I  fain  would  have  fled. 

"You  know  my  oath  to  my  father."  I  of  course  knew  naught  of 
the  matter,  nor  do  I  know  it  yet,  though  I  have  diligent  inquired. 

"  My  oath  to  forego  the  hall,  give  up  my  place  with  my  fighting 
men.  Yea,  upon  my  father's  sword  I  swore,  recking  light  of  an 
oath,  and  the  old  man,  dying,  would  have  it  so.  That  oath  tor- 
ments me  now.  The  evil  demons  of  the  air  haunt  my  bed;  fiends 
leer  at  me  through  the  day  and  whisper  all  the  night.  I  see  my 
father's  soul  writhing  in  the  fires  of  Hell,  and  there  he  lays  and 
beckons  me  to  him.  But  no,  by  the  heart  of  Mars  I'll  be  no 
craven  fool  to  give  up  my  castle  and  my  name.  Perhaps  my  son 
may,  I'll  make  him  swear  to  me  to  do  so.  Yet  I  fear;  I  fear;  I  like 
not  that  pit  of  scorching  flame  where  my  father  suffers  because  he 
did  lay  his  hand  upon  his  brother." 

I  could  not  but  look  him  in  the  face,  and  he  thought  there  was 
wisdom  in  my  glance,  for  he  clutched  me  at  the  throat. 

"Ah,  thou  prying  hound,  what  dost  thou  know?  Speak  !  Speak !" 

But  speak  I  could  not,  though  a  soul's  salvation  hung  on  my 
glib  and  nimble  tongue. 

Count  Raoul  soon  loosed  me,  seeing  my  ignorance.  Yet  some 
dark  story  had  I  heard  and  repeated  not— the  crimes  of  the  great 
are  too  dangerous  morsels  for  a  poor  man  to  mouth. 

"Go  now  to  thy  shop,  and  mark  ye,  sirrah,  that  no  man  sees  thy 
work." 

I  had  hardly  gotten  well  to  my  forge  before  three  stout  varlets 
came  in  on  a  pretense  of  seeing  a  golden  bracelet  which  I  showed 
them  without  suspecting  aught.  When,  my  back  well  turned,  they 
slipped  gyves  upon  my  wrists,  bound  me  by  a  great  band  of  iron 
at  the  waist,  and  made  all  fast  to  the  huge  stone  pillar. 

Thenceforward,  all  through  the  days  and  nights  which  followed, 
one  of  these  men  stood  ever  at  my  window  to  see  I  worked  with 
speed,  worked  on  the  locket  and  not  upon  my  chains. 

Count  Raoul  came  many  times  as  the  work  progressed,  but  the 
guards  were  alway  at  too  great  a  distance  to  tell  in  what  quaint 
form  my  beaten  gold  was  fashioned. 


288  APPENDIX 

Many,  many  lockets  I  made  of  cunning  workmanship  and  de- 
sign, of  curious  chasings  and  most  marvelous  wrought  intertwin- 
ings,  yet  none  suited  my  lord.  One  after  one  they  returned  to  the 
melting  pot  and  my  labors  re-commenced. 

During  the  long  months  I  was  thus  engaged,  I  saw  the  Count 
often,  nay,  more  than  daily,  for  his  whole  feverish  life  seemed  in- 
woven with  the  yellow  and  white  metals  I  was  busy  interlacing 
and  rounding  and  polishing  up. 

At  times  an  abject  fear  sat  upon  his  countenance,  and  he  mum- 
bled of  strange  sights  he  saw,  of  communings  with  the  Prince  of 
Darkness,  of  specters  gaunt  and  hideous  that  glided  through  the 
deserted  court-yard,  and  stood  beside  his  chair  even  in  the  noisy 
banquet  chamber. 

For  that  the  Count  was  mad  I  could  not  doubt. 

Yea,  of  all  these  things  he  spake  as  he  urged  me  on  as  a  lazy 
horse  under  whip  and  goad,  to  finish,  finish. 

I  inquired  of  this  at  great  risk  of  one  of  the  men  who  stood 
guard;  he  tapped  his  forehead,  and  replied  : 

"He  does  all  things  so.  It  is  so  in  camp,  on  the  field,  in  the 
hall.  Aye,  but  he's  a  very  fiend  in  battle,"  and  the  fellow's  eye 
brightened  with  a  fierce  pleasure  at  the  thought  of-  his  lord's  well- 
known  prowess — for  Count  Raoul  had  wandered  much  in  foreign 
lands,  and  deeds  of  blood  followed  in  whispers  to  his  door. 

It  is  of  these  dealings  with  the  evil  lord,  and  close  association 
with  one  possessed,  I  seek  cleansing.  *  *  *  Too  often  did  I 
pass  the  names  of  Rusbel,  Ashtaroth,  Beelzebub,  Satan  and  others 
trippingly  upon  my  tongue— may  the  Saints  defend— to  keep  my 
lord's  temper  smooth,  for  I  verily  believe  he  meant  to  slay  me 
when  my  task  was  done. 

It  was  for  this  I  made  my  work  long  and  tedious,  that  the  acid 
I  was  daily  using  on  my  chains  might  have  due  season  to  eat  them 
through,  and  I  could  be  free. 

*    *    *    finished  at  length  to  his  satisfaction,  and  slipped  off 
through  the  night. 
*********         **** 

Stated  and  subscribed  in  presence  of  Brothers  Jehan  and  Hu- 
bert, on  this  the  morrow  of  All  Saints',  in  the  year  of  grace  one 
thousand  six  hundred  and  forty-six. 

MIGUEL  SILICEO. 


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republic  up  to  the  found:!  tion  of  the  greater  republic  by  the  federation 
of  the  colonies  of  New  England. 

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This  is  the  most  popular  series  of  ten-cent  recitation  books  mnde.  It 
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Johnston.  STUDIES;  LITERARY  AND  SOCIAL.  First  and 
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Laughlin.    JOHNNIE.   A  Study  of  Boyhood.   By  E.  O.  Laugh- 

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In  this  volume  the  nuthor  has  told  for  us  the  story  of  a  country  boy, 
from  his  earliest  school-days  until  he  is  grown  to  manhood  and  leaves 
the  farm  for  the  great  city  beyond.  We  share  with  him  his  griefs  and 
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Legionaries,  The.    See  Clark,  Henry  Scott. 


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May  when  he  touches  his  lyre.  In  this  volume,  which  only  a  poet 
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S"weetser.    ONE   WAY   ROUND  THE  WORLD.    A   volume   of 

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small  books  of  travel  that  has  made  its  appearam  e.  In  chapter  after 
chapter  she  tells  us  either  of  something  new  and  commendable,  or  else 
about  something  which.  th< /ugh  \ye  mav  perhaps  have  rend  of  it  before, 
\ve  certainly  were  not  told  of  it  in  such  a  cheerful!  fresh  and  charm- 
ing way.  Everywhere  that  she  went  she  looked  with  receptive  eyes 
and  listened  with  receptive  ears;  hence,  that  which  she  tells  in  the 
book  is  as  crisp  and  savory  as  American  celery,  j'.s  delicious  even  as  an, 
incomparable  s.tlade  romaine  at  Vian's  in  the'Rue  Daunou. 

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Vawter.    OP  SUCH  Is  THE  KINGDOM.     By  Clara  Vawter. 

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Voorhees.    FORTY  YEARS  OF  ORATORY.    By  Daniel  W.  Voor- 

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